


Teen Wolf Kink Meme Prompt Ficlets

by twilight_shades



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Buffy Wishverse, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Feral Behavior, Gen, Implied/Referenced Torture, Injury Recovery, Kid Fic, Kidnapping, M/M, Magic, Mental Breakdown, Multi, Panic Attacks, Serious Injuries, Temporary Amnesia, Temporary Character Death, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-04 12:57:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 41
Words: 125,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11555670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twilight_shades/pseuds/twilight_shades
Summary: Many different ficlets,  which include, but are not limited to: threesomes (Chapters 4, 24, and 33), alive Hale family (Chapters 5 and 30), Stiles as a werebunny (Chapter 8), a bakery AU (Chapter 12), a Good Wife AU (Chapter 16), Fae Stiles (Chapter 18), feral Derek (Chapter 28), and kid fic (Chapter 39).Each ficlet gets a chapter, summaries and pairings for all in the first chapter.Full prompts in chapter summaries.





	1. Ficlet Summaries

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt ficlets originally posted in 2011-2012 for the Teen Wolf Kink Meme on [**teenwolfkink**](http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/).
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: Do not own. Complete fiction.

2) Derek sleepwalks, ending up in Stiles’ room. (Derek/Stiles)  
3) Peter takes Stiles after that little meeting with Allison in the store. He wants information, but Stiles doesn’t cooperate, so Peter hurts Stiles. And everyone has to figure out how to deal with that. (Derek/Stiles)  
4) Derek, Scott, and Stiles are on the run from werewolf hunters, and start to develop something. (Derek/Scott/Stiles)  
5) The Hales are alive and now it’s time for Derek to bring Stiles to dinner with them. (Derek/Stiles)  
6) A very wet, very cold Stiles gets cuddled by a werewolf Derek to warm him up. (Derek/Stiles)  
7) Stiles is the one that causes Peter to die. Guess who the alpha is now? (Gen)  
8) Stiles is a werebunny. (Derek/Stiles)  
9) Five times Stiles was stuck and had to be rescued by Derek and one time he wasn't. (Derek/Stiles)  
10) Derek’s having dreams about Stiles. They’re comforting at first and then they get more intimate. (Derek/Stiles)  
11) Stiles is kidnapped, Stiles is resourceful, Stiles is rescued by Derek and the pack (except, he doesn’t really need to be). Then, Stiles and Derek talk. (Derek/Stiles)  
12) Bakery AU. Stiles works in The Hale Pack Bakery for Laura. And there’s a guy in a suit who likes Stiles’ cookies. And Derek’s back in California. (Derek/Stiles)  
13) When the pack pulls away from Stiles, he becomes friends with Danny. Then, when a school trip comes up and the pack objects to Stiles going, he goes anyway and there are problems. (Derek/Stiles)  
14) Stiles and Derek get trapped together in a small space – friction causes embarrassment and then it causes something else. (Derek/Stiles)  
15) All the wolves love Stiles, in their own ways. (Allison/Scott/Stiles, Jackson/Stiles, Lydia/Stiles, Derek/Stiles)  
16) Good Wife AU where Stiles is a first year ASA and Derek is an investigator for the firm of Argent, Harris and Finstock. (Derek/Stiles)  
17) Stiles is tortured by Kate in front of Derek. (Derek/Stiles)  
18) Stiles doesn’t know it, but he’s actually a fairy. Or, half, anyway. So, everybody has to deal when his fairy side starts manifesting itself. (Derek/Stiles)  
19) Due to everything, the sheriff wants to send Stiles away. A werewolf overhears and wolfs-out to stop it because Stiles belongs to Derek. (Derek/Stiles)  
20) Derek needs Stiles to wear Derek’s scent for his protection, which leads to a realization of feelings. (Derek/Stiles)  
21) Lydia’s werewolf instincts recognize Stiles as her dead alpha’s mate. (Derek/Stiles)  
22) Stiles goes missing and the sheriff goes to Derek, thinking Stiles might be with him. He isn’t, so the two work together to find Stiles and the sheriff learns a few things along the way. (Derek/Stiles)  
23) Stiles falls into a bush, has brief retrograde amnesia, and reveals a past history with Derek. Derek decides that he wants Stiles for his pack and more. (Derek/Stiles)  
24) Stiles gets tired of being the go-between for Scott and Allison and declares that he'd rather be the between. (Allison/Scott/Stiles)  
25) Derek and Stiles are _literally_ stuck together. Joined at the hip – well, Derek’s hand and Stiles’ hip. (Derek/Stiles)  
26) Five times Stiles impresses Derek with a hidden talent and one time Derek is impressed by a not-so-hidden talent. (Derek/Stiles)  
27) When Stiles does the wolf’s bane bullet cure for Derek again, the Argents, as witnesses, learn that Derek was going to make Stiles cut off his arm and they have some things to say about that. (Derek/Stiles)  
28) Derek goes temporarily feral due to a drugged arrow and drags Stiles off to protect him. And while Derek plays Tarzan, Stiles gets his Stiles on and talks and talks and talks. Later, they deal with Derek’s actions and Stiles’ words. (Derek/Stiles)  
29) Five times Stiles sought out Derek so that he could protect Stiles and one time Derek sought out Stiles. (Derek/Stiles)  
30) After a battle that leaves everyone dead or near death, Stiles wishes that Kate Argent had never been born and a new reality comes into being. (Gen)  
31) Stiles is hurt, Derek is upset, and the whole pack needs comforting. (Derek/Stiles)  
32) Stiles’ drunken decision to get a tattoo leads to a bond when the tattoo turns out to be Alpha Derek Hale’s mark. AU where werewolves are known and nothing happens like it does on the show. (Derek/Stiles)  
33) Stiles finally hits his breaking point. Erica and Isaac help put him back together. (Erica/Isaac/Stiles)  
34) Magical AU. Stiles is promised to the next Hale alpha because of a vengeful fae. First it’s Laura, then Peter, then finally Derek. Sometimes, magic sucks. Then again, sometimes, it’s not so bad. (Derek/Stiles)  
35) Derek gets fixated on Stiles’ hands. (Derek/Stiles)  
36) Everyone loses their memories and must figure out how to relate to each other without all of that information. (Gen)  
37) Five times something accidentally caused a reaction from Stiles due to his sensitive nipples and one time Derek deliberately caused a reaction. (Derek/Stiles)  
38) After everything, Jackson gets it together and tries to be a part of something. Stiles gets hurt and Jackson feels guilty, worried, and protective. And, as it turns out, he also feels something else for Stiles. (Jackson/Stiles)  
39) Stiles and the pack part ways. Stiles goes to college and comes back home with a baby. It turns out the reason the pack estranged itself from Stiles doesn’t hold up and now Derek wants Stiles and his baby in the pack. (Derek/Stiles)  
40) Stiles is Derek’s good luck charm. (Derek/Stiles)  
41) Stiles gave Derek a stuffed wolf when they were kids. (Derek/Stiles)


	2. Reclining Your Body in a Horizontal Position

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Prompt](http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/784.html?thread=75024#t75024): Derek/Anyone. Rewatched the first ep, so... Late one night, Derek sleepwalks like Scott did and ends up in someone’s room. Would prefer Stiles or Jackson, but is really up to filler who. Major bonus points for somnophilia, but can just be gen/fluff, too. :]

Stiles wakes up abruptly with a hand on his face. At first, he thinks that it’s his father, checking if he’s okay. Maybe he’d been having a nightmare. But he blinks his eyes open and in the light from the window he can see Derek is lying there, on his side, in front of Stiles. Stiles startles back, but Derek’s hand stays steady on his face. “Jesus, what the hell?” Stiles asks. 

Derek doesn’t answer. He just lies there, eyes focused on Stiles’ face. Actually, it’s almost as though he’s looking right through Stiles.

Stiles closes his eyes tightly, thinking that maybe if he pretends it’s not happening, then maybe it won’t be. Somehow, though, while he’s pretending, he falls back to sleep. 

~~~

When he wakes up in the morning, there’s no Derek. He gets up and starts getting ready, completely weirded out. He’s kind of jumpy and distracted the whole day. Not that that’s all that unusual. When practice is over, he heads out to the parking lot. Derek’s car is parked next to his Jeep and Derek is leaning against the Jeep.

“Where’s Scott?” Derek asks curtly.

“He should be out in a few minutes,” Stiles says and stares at Derek, waiting for him to say something about last night.

Derek raises an eyebrow at him. “What?”

“So, we’re going to pretend like nothing happened? I mean, that’s kind of my usual modus operandi, but I think I would like to know what that was all about.”

“What are you talking about, Stilinski?”

“You know what? Forget it, I don’t even care. Well, that’s not true, but I don’t want to go fifteen rounds with you over this. So, see you later, or wait, no, actually, I’d rather not.”

Stiles gets in his Jeep and drives off. He catches sight of Derek in his mirror, watching after him with a confused expression.

~~~

Stiles doesn’t get a lot of sleep that night, waking with every little noise. And the next night is much the same. He goes through school in a sort of daze, so tired that even Scott notices something’s up. He just tells Scott that he’s having trouble sleeping, but he doesn’t tell him why, not wanting Scott to get all freaked out. He slogs through practice, even slower than usual. He gets home and fixes something to eat, nearly falling asleep at the table. He’s kind of glad his dad is working night shifts right now because this would make him worry. He tries to do the reading for Econ., but the words just blur in front of him. He gives up and gets ready for bed. He’s asleep almost as soon as his head hits the pillow.

~~~

Stiles wakes up to a very odd sensation. Someone’s… _licking_ the back of his neck. Stiles tenses and realizes that there are arms wrapped around him. He squirms, but the arms stay put. He’s not sure how he knows, but he knows it’s Derek. Maybe his smell, or his feel, or just his presence. Anyhow, it’s strangely comforting to be held like this, even if the licking is still weird. He’s too tired to think about it for long and sleep pulls him back under.

~~~

In the morning, no Derek again. Stiles lies there, trying to figure out what’s going on. He decides maybe he’s, like, been dreaming because that seems so much more plausible than Derek sneaking into his bed and licking him. And that would explain Derek’s confusion. He’s not sure what it means that he’s dreaming that, but he’s pretty sure that dreams aren’t supposed to be that literal. Maybe he just wants somebody to be there.

~~~

Somehow, he makes it to the end of the school week. After practice on Friday, Scott asks if Stiles wants to go out with him and Allison that weekend. But Stiles doesn’t feel like being a third wheel, so he fobs Scott off, saying something about research and homework. Stiles goes home and fixes something to eat and picks at it. He turns on TV and flips through all the channels, not finding anything he wants to watch. He goes upstairs and plays games on his computer, but they don’t hold his interest for very long. He does more research into werewolf lore, but gives up after a few minutes. He even does some of his homework. After a while, he realizes that he’s putting off going to bed, which is silly. If he’s going to dream, he’s going to dream. He gets ready for bed. He picks up his Economics book and climbs into bed, figuring that reading about inflation will work as a sleep-aid. He drifts off after a couple of pages.

~~~

Stiles comes awake with a start. Derek’s snuffling at his neck. It doesn’t seem at all like a dream. Stiles can feel his hot breath. And he can feel a hand, hot against the bare skin of his hip, under his sleep pants and another hand on his back, under his rucked up t-shirt. Stiles tries to push Derek away, but he can’t get enough leverage to do it. Derek lifts his head from Stiles’ neck and Stiles can see the same sort of blank stare from the first night (which he’s now pretty sure wasn’t a dream). Then, Derek’s sniffing at his face.

“Hey! Could you, like, stop? Or, at least, explain? Derek? Derek!”

Derek doesn’t stop or even react at all. Derek is right there (sniffing at his eyebrows - what the hell?) So Stiles opens his mouth against Derek’s neck and bites down, hard. Derek makes a strange sound and pulls back. On the plus side, he no longer has that scary blank stare, on the minus side, he now has his usual scary scowl-y stare and it’s even scarier when they’re practically nose to nose. And, crap, Stiles drew blood, just a tiny bit. And now, Stiles is frantically trying to recall all his research because he knows what happens when a werewolf bites a human, but he doesn’t think he ever came across anything about what happens when a human bites a werewolf.

“Okay, you can quit looking at me like that right now. _I’m_ not the one who has been sneaking into _your_ bed,” Stiles says as Derek’s scowl gets even scowl-ier.

Derek looks around and seems honestly baffled to find himself in Stiles’ room. He blinks at Stiles and then seems to notice that he’s holding on to Stiles. He quickly pulls back his hands from under Stiles’ clothes and sits up. He looks ready to bolt.

Stiles sits up, too, and reaches out a hand. “No, hey, no. You can’t leave without telling me what this is all about.”

Derek gives him a narrow-eyed look.

“Well, okay, you _can_ leave without telling me anything, but, um, I think I deserve some answers. I mean, you keep doing this and I’d like to know why.” Stiles drops his hand to his side.

“This isn’t the first time?” Derek asks with a frown.

“Um, no. This is the third time.”

“Did I, did I do anything?”

“Well, you put your hand on my face and then there was the licking. Oh, and now the sniffing. What is up with that?”

“Licking… and sniffing,” Derek says in an odd tone. He shakes his head a little. “I meant, did I hurt you?”

“Oh. No, but you did totally weird me out.”

“Was there anything else?”

“That’s what I woke up to so I guess you could have done the creepy stalker thing and watched me while I was sleeping and I wouldn’t know. Ugh, you didn’t do that, did you?”

“I don’t think so.”

“You don’t _think_ so? Don’t you know?”

Derek gives him a disgruntled look and says reluctantly, “Sometimes when I sleep the wolf instincts can take over. And my wolf… likes you.”

“Because I’m pack? Or wait, am I pack or am I _pack_?”

“What?”

“I, um,” Stiles says and points at Derek’s neck, “I bit you and there was blood. Not a lot! But some. Does that mean something?”

Derek has a weird expression, like he can’t decide whether to be amused or annoyed. “Yes.”

“Oh God, I knew it. Am I a werewolf? Or, like, a half-were? Is there such a thing?”

“No, and you’re not a werewolf. At all.”

“Then what does it mean?”

“A werewolf looking for a mate-”

“A mate?” Stiles sort of yelps.

Derek glares. “A werewolf looking for a mate might be compelled to learn the feel and the taste and the smell of someone… suitable. As part of a sort of pre-courting.”

“ _Courting?_ You were _courting_ me? And the bite?”

“Pre-courting. And the bite… ups the ante.”

“Ups the ante, how?”

“You’ve kind of challenged me to prove that I’m serious.”

“Serious? Like serious about _courting_?”

Derek nods.

“So, your wolf wants to, what, date me?”

Derek nods again.

“No.”

“No?” Derek asks, sounding surprised.

“I do have a choice in this, right?” Stiles asks nervously. Because if Derek says he doesn’t, well, Stiles will have to figure out a way to make sure he does have a choice, which he suspects would involve wolfsbane bullets. And that would suck because despite everything, he likes Derek. Not like that. Okay, yes, like that, too.

“Of course you have a choice. I just didn’t think…”

“That I’d say no? Well, I may not be the poster boy for self-esteem, but I do have some.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Derek grits out.

Stiles can’t figure out why Derek seems so upset. Maybe it’s the wolf. “Your wolf may like me, but the rest of you barely tolerates me. And I’m not going to date anyone who partly sort of likes me and partly sort of dislikes me.”

“I don’t dislike you. I-“

“Could have fooled me.”

“Stiles, you’re human-“

“You don’t like me because I’m human? That’s kind of, um, speciesist, isn’t it?”

Derek grinds his teeth.

“Why don’t I just let you finish what you were saying?”

“Your best friend is a werewolf and he doesn’t have the best control. And there are hunters out there that don’t care that much about collateral damage.”

“I’m not sure I’m following.”

“I, my family- I didn’t want to get attached to _anyone_ , much less someone in such a precarious position.”

“I guess I can understand- Wait, you _didn’t_ want to? Does that mean that now you do, or that you are… attached?”

Derek looks like he wants to growl, at least that’s how Stiles interprets his expression. Derek gives a short nod. Really just a head bob. If Stiles had blinked, he would have missed it.

“Huh. Okay. So, uh, dinner and a movie?” Stiles asks.

“What?”

“Dinner and a movie is kind of a traditional date. Or we could go bowling, but I not really that great at it and I can’t actually picture you bowling. There’s mini-golf. Or, wait, how about-“ Stiles is cut off by Derek’s hand covering his mouth.

“I will pick you up tomorrow,” Derek says and then pauses and looks over at Stiles’ alarm clock, “tonight at seven and we will get dinner and then we will see a movie, if that is acceptable to you?” Derek takes his hand away.

“I don’t know, is that acceptable to your wolf? I mean, we don’t have to, like, go chase down and catch a deer for dinner, do we?”

Derek’s mouth twitches. “We can do that next time.”

“Oh my God, did you just make a joke? Wow, we should do something to mark the occasion for posterity or whatever. Maybe a moment of sil-“

“Stiles.”

“Yeah, okay. So, seven?”

“Seven.”

As Derek makes his way out the window, Stiles says, “You know, my dad’s not home, you could use the door. No? Okay.”

After Derek’s gone, Stiles lies back down on his bed, smiling a little. He keeps smiling until he realizes that eventually he’s going to have to tell people he’s dating Derek. People like Scott… and his dad. Crap.


	3. I Don’t Want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Prompt](http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/784.html?thread=173072#t173072): Stiles(/Any); Kidnapping, possible torture and/or noncon ; Episode 11 spoilers. After Peter confronts Allison in the store he knows Scott is going to be with her 24/7. And he knows that Derek is missing. So he knows that Stiles is unprotected and up for the taking. Maybe Stiles is less willing to give up information when someone else’s life isn’t on the line so there’s torture, or Peter finds Stiles fascinating so it escalates to noncon. Would love it if Derek/Stiles could be included, but any pairing or gen is still happily accepted as long as there is plenty of h/c. Because really, Peter went after LYDIA before he went after Stiles. WTF.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AU after the shopping scene in episode 1x11 (Formality).

When Allison calls, looking for Stiles because Lydia said that he was late, Scott sort of panics. He’d been worried about his mother and Allison. It hadn’t occurred to him that Peter might go after Stiles. He can only think to find Derek. Scott gets up on a bluff and howls. And nothing. He doesn’t know what to do. Then there’s an answering howl.

He finds Derek in a kind of cell under the burned out Hale house (and wow, he didn’t think the place could get any creepier). Scott gets him free and tells him about Peter. Derek knocks out some guy who was apparently torturing him. They start out at Stiles’ place, trying to track where Peter had taken him. They end up circling around right back to the Hale house and by then it’s been hours. Then Allison and her aunt Kate show up and there are arrows and guns and Kate comes so close to shooting him. And then Allison’s dad shows up, saying they have a code (which Scott has not really seen any evidence of). 

The Alpha suddenly appears, knocking people down and then taking Kate inside the house with Allison following. As soon as they can get up, he and Derek go after him. They tag team Peter in the house (literally over Kate’s body, gross), but he’s so strong. But at least Allison gets out while they do it. The Alpha wolf goes back outside and Scott and Derek follow. Jackson and Lydia drive up (Scott has no earthly idea how or why they came). Jackson throws a flask at the Alpha, which he catches. Lydia yells at Allison, who grabs her bow. It looks like the Alpha is about hurl the flask away when Stiles stumbles out of the house, distracting him. 

Stiles looks awful, neck horribly bruised, clothes ripped and torn. Stiles staggers closer to the Alpha and the Alpha grins, which makes Scott shudder with revulsion. Stiles arm comes up and he has some sort of cattle prod thing which he jams into the Alpha and make him jerk and pull his arms in. Allison lets an arrow fly and it hits the flask, making it explode and flames engulf the Alpha. Stiles falls back as the Alpha flails, burning. The Alpha changes back into human form as he falls and he’s still alive. Derek goes up to the terribly burned form of his uncle. Scott calls out because this is his one chance, but Derek slashes Peter’s throat and looks up with red eyes. Derek’s the Alpha now. There’s a groan and Scott runs over to Stiles, cursing himself for forgetting about him.

~~~

Lydia sneaks into the hospital room. She looks at Stiles lying there and she feels badly. He’s a complete dork and she didn’t really want to go to the formal with him, but he’s not a bad guy and he definitely didn’t deserve whatever that… thing did to him.

She knows Stiles has had a crush on her for forever (hello, not stupid, no matter how she acts sometimes). Which is why she had been surprised he was late. Then, when Allison didn’t call her back and she had to call her again and Allison had been really weird, Lydia went to Jackson. Sure, he dumped her (the stupid ass), but he’d been acting weird for a while and she was pretty sure it was related and she knew that if she applied the right pressure, he’d spill everything. Which he did (seriously, werewolves and hunters, what the hell?). Then she’d started tracking down cell phones by GPS and they were all at the same place. She made Jackson drive her there, but not before making an _actual_ self-igniting Molotov cocktail (this time she didn’t let Jackson help). And then when they got there, God, what a horror fest that had been.

She reaches out and wraps her hand around Stiles’ and gives it a gentle squeeze. “I’m really sorry about- Well, I’m just sorry. I hope you wake up soon. Everybody’s worried.” She squeezes his hand again and then lets go. She sneaks back out of the room.

~~~

Jackson should probably apologize to Derek Hale. He should, but he won't. The thing is, well, the thing is, he hadn't realized that Hale thought of Stilinski as anything more than McCall's annoying friend (actually, though, McCall is probably the more annoying one). Stilinski has a big mouth and talks all the time, but no one should be tortured. It's weird even thinking about it because Stilinski is someone who has always been around, at least on the periphery, and he's a teammate. And occasionally (very occasionally), he's funny or whatever and even sort of smart. And really freaking loyal (Jackson bets that that's probably one of the reasons why he was so messed up). And yeah, it sucks that he got hurt. But he'd had no idea that Derek Hale gave a damn about him.

If one of his friends, if _Danny_ had been in the hospital and someone had come around, asking Jackson for something, he would've been pissed. As he watches Hale try to be as inconspicuous as possible while he stands in an alcove in the hall where he can see into Stilinski's room, Jackson feels a little disgusted with himself. Hale's got his head tilted like he's listening to something. It takes a minute for Jackson to realize it's probably Stilinski, like his heartbeat or something. He won't apologize, but maybe he'll make sure not to bother Hale for awhile and maybe he'll run interference if anyone else tries. Jackson wonders why he cares so much.

~~~

Allison feels like she could just have a meltdown at any moment. She's a million miles from the person she was just a few days ago. But she has to be strong, prove to her parents that she can handle everything. And she has to be there for Scott, who blames himself for Stiles. She's worried about Stiles, too, but is trying to be positive for Scott's sake. She also wants to grieve for Kate, but isn't sure how to grieve for someone who may have been more of a monster than the one that killed her. She's not sure how to apologize to Derek Hale, either. How do you say you're sorry for leaving someone to be tortured (especially when she feels sick to think about the same thing happening to Stiles) and then shooting them with arrows?

Allison had believed her aunt, that werewolves were bad, at first. Then Kate had told her that Scott was one and they'd gone after them while Allison was still in a state of shock. It was easy to let the arrows fly at Derek, especially since it had looked a little like he was chasing Scott. Then Kate had shot him and had come so close to shooting Scott. And her father had shown up and said they had a code. Kate had killed a lot of people, a family, and not just werewolves. Things just weren't anywhere near as black and white as Kate had painted them. Allison hadn't wanted Peter to kill Kate, but she could kind of understand why he had done it, even if she couldn't understand the other things he'd done.

~~~

Derek is having trouble suppressing his wolf side. Part of him wants to howl and shred and crush. Lurking in the hospital isn't helping. The sharp scent of antiseptic and cleaning supplies is so tied to Peter, visiting him here. It's not just that. He was never supposed to be Alpha, never wanted to be. He wonders briefly if Scott will ever understand how he couldn't take the chance that Scott would be Alpha - Scott, with his barely there control as a beta. He would've either torn himself or the town apart. Derek, born a werewolf, is having control issues being Alpha. Part of it could be the past few days, not just Kate and Peter, but the torture, the arrows, being shot, and fighting Peter. Physically, he's fine, but he can't seem to throw off the memories. He doesn't know how he feels about Allison. He wants to just dismiss her as manipulated by Kate (he knows how that feels), but she left him and then shot him with arrows.

And then, of course, there's Stiles. It's Derek's fault. He's only getting bits and pieces of the Alpha's memory, but Derek's the one who'd sent Stiles into the hospital. That's when Peter had really taken note of him. Peter had _known_ of Stiles before, as Scott's friend (prey), and something Stiles had done at the school had caught at the Alpha's attention. Then, here, Peter had gotten interested in him. Now, flashes of Peter's memories of Stiles are coming through - Stiles impressing Peter, refusing an offer to be bitten, refusing to tell Peter anything about Scott or Derek, intriguing Peter. Derek can hear echoes of Stiles crying out, but he doesn't know why. Derek pulls himself from the memories and listens to Stiles breathe, listens to his heartbeat from his spot near Stiles' hospital room.

Derek's been watching the parade of people who've come to see Stiles. Everyone seems to feel some measure of guilt for Stiles' situation, even Scott's mom. Derek studies her, wondering why. And suddenly, there's a flash - her going out with Peter, him making a frankly creepy remark about her skin and then a crash and Stiles. Derek puts this together with what she's probably read in the paper about Peter killing people and guesses that she knows Stiles saved her and bets that she thinks that Peter went after him because of that. Another flash - Allison in a store and Peter with another creepy comment about _her_ skin. And then, Stiles in the basement and Peter saying something about how nice Stiles' skin is. Derek concentrates, trying to see more, but that's all he’s getting. What did Peter do? Derek wants Stiles to wake up. He needs Stiles to wake up. He needs him to wake up and be Stiles.

~~~

Stiles wakes up, but doesn’t open his eyes. He tries to take stock of things and wonders when he’s going to wake up without doing it. He’d done the same thing when he’d woken up the other times. It hadn’t really helped. There had been his dad and the doctor and two nurses and a deputy and so many questions and not enough answers. Apparently, Peter is dead. Stiles sort of remembers him being set on fire. He actually feels almost sorry for him. He still wants to see the body. He just wants to be sure.

Stiles can’t hear anything, except, wait, someone is breathing quietly in the room. It’s probably his dad, even though Stiles had told him to go home and get some sleep. Stiles slowly opens his eyes and inhales sharply. There are red eyes over in the corner of the room. Stiles heart is racing and he’s about to start shouting for someone when he realizes it’s _Derek_ , not Peter. He feels nauseous from the comedown of the fright. He opens his mouth to say something, but all that comes out is a sort of squeak. He clears his throat, which is still sore from what Peter… which is still sore, and tries again, “Your eyes,” he says hoarsely.

Instead of the scowl Stiles is expecting, Derek looks a little upset. “Sorry.’

Stiles eyebrows go up and his eyes go wide.

“I didn’t want, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Derek says gruffly.

Stiles can see the same look of worry from Derek that he’d seen from his dad. It was okay from his dad, not great because Stiles doesn’t like to worry him, but expected. Worry from Derek makes him feel weirdly brittle. He clears his throat again and tries for humor, “It’s cool. I know looming, like scowling, is kind of your thing.”

Derek barks out a short laugh and seems as surprised by it as Stiles is.

“So, does this, are you Alpha now? What about Scott? We’re sure he’s dead, right? Peter, I mean. And what about the Argents? And how did everyone get there? Oh, and where were-“

“Stiles.”

“What? I have a lot of questions. And I couldn’t ask my dad. Wait, I couldn’t ask my dad, right? He doesn’t know, does he?” Stiles is starting to panic. His dad hadn’t said anything, but that could have been a misguided attempt to keep from getting Stiles agitated.

“Stiles.”

“Derek.”

Derek sighs. “Everything is okay. You shouldn’t be getting upset.”

“Derek, please.”

“Peter’s really dead. I’m the Alpha. Scott is angry, but I couldn’t take the chance that he couldn’t control it. There’s an… understanding with the Argents. Your dad knows Peter was the one killing people as revenge for the fire, but he doesn’t know anything about werewolves and hunters. Okay?”

Stiles breathes out slowly. “Okay.” His throat aches. He reaches up to rub at it, but snatches his hand away when he catches Derek staring at it. Derek keeps looking at his neck with a deep frown and Stiles wonders how bad it looks.

“I’m sorry.”

Stiles blinks in surprise. “Okay, you apologizing twice is a lot scarier than you looming anywhere.”

“I wasn’t- I am sorry for scaring you before, but that’s not what I was apologizing for. It’s my fault.”

“What is?”

Derek gestures at him with a hand. “This. You. Peter.”

“Huh?”

“I sent you in here and he took note of you.”

Stiles considers himself a pretty smart guy ( _the clever one_ , Peter had called him), but he did not follow that at all. “What?”

“When we came here, to see who sent the text.”

“Oh.” Stiles had kind of forgotten about that. For a while there, it had been one horrifying thing after another, each one worse than the last and somehow that event just didn’t stand out when compared to everything that had come later. “Well, you know what? I think as Scott’s friend, I had already caught his attention. I’m a pretty noteworthy guy and we may not have known who he was until then, but he knew who we were.”

“Yes, but you caught his attention in a different way because of me. And it was my fault he was here, anyway. It was all my fault. Everything that’s happened is my fault. So, I’m sorry,” Derek says, looking very uncomfortable.

“What are you talking about? How is this all your fault?”

“Kate. She used me to get to my family. I’m the reason she got so close and was able to set the fire. She and I, we… She was-“

“Oh. _Oh._ Okay, no. Kate is, was responsible for the choices she made, just like Peter was responsible for his. Kate could have left well enough alone, stuck to that code they’re supposed to have, but she didn’t. Peter could have asked you and your sister for help, but he didn’t. There are a million different things they could have done that wouldn’t have ended with people hurt or killed. C’mon, Derek, you had no control over either of them. You didn’t want or encourage any of this.”

“If I had known about the other guys, the ones that helped Kate, I might have gone after them, just like Peter.”

“Would you? Would you really?”

“I, I don’t know.”

“Trust me, you’re nothing like Peter.”

“I should have protected you. I should have known he would come after you.”

Stiles shrugs. “You had your own things to deal with.”

“He hurt you.”

Stiles shrugs again, awkward. He very much doesn’t want to talk about it.

“He… touched you?”

“Well, yeah, what with the strangling and the shocking.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“He said something about your skin.”

“How do you know about that?” Stiles asks warily.

“I’ve been getting flashes. Of his memories.”

“Really? I wonder if Scott, oh, wait, his dream, about Allison, about the bus driver, he was there, but some of it was from the Alpha’s point of view. Is it like that for all werewolves?”

“It depends on the wolf. Stiles, did Peter-“

“I really don’t want to talk about what Peter did. It doesn’t matter anyway, he’s dead.”

Derek looks at him for a long moment, a troubled expression on his face. “It matters.”

Stiles licks his lips and says, “Well, maybe I don’t want it to.”

“Stiles-“

“What did you mean earlier? When you said that I caught his attention because of you?”

“He noticed my… concern for you.”

“Concern? Wouldn’t you have been _concerned_ about anyone up against Peter’s Alpha?”

“Not as much,” Derek mumbles.

“Are you, are you saying you _like_ me?”

Derek suddenly finds the floor fascinating.

“Oh my God. You _are_.” Stiles takes a moment to gather his thoughts because his mind is blown. “Look, Derek, what Peter did, when he-“ Stiles stops as his voice catches in his throat. Derek’s head snaps up and his eyes focus intently on Stiles’. “It’s not your fault, okay? I blame Peter and he’s the only one. And, I’m fine.”

Derek just looks at him steadily.

“I _will be_ fine.”

Derek studies him and then gives a short, sharp nod.

Stiles yawns.

“You should sleep.”

“Yeah.” Stiles kind of wants him to stay, but doesn’t know how to ask. Instead he says, “I guess I’ll see you around,” his voice getting hoarser until it’s almost non-existent on the last syllable.

Derek looks at him and says, “I could stay for a while.” He says it without any particular inflection, which is good because if there’s been an ounce of guilt or pity in his voice, Stile would have made him leave.

Stiles clears his throat, but it doesn’t help much, so he sort of squeaks out, “That would be… okay.”

Derek finds a chair and settles into it. Stiles drifts off to the barely there sound of Derek’s breathing.

~~~

Derek’s worried. It’s been a few weeks and Stiles doesn’t talk about it with Derek and he won’t talk about it with Scott (and what an awkward conversation that had been, Scott upset and belligerent, Derek frustrated and persistent, both of them almost wolfing out). Stiles is seeing a therapist and Derek hopes he talks to her, but since it’s so his dad won’t worry as much about him and Derek knows how Stiles can talk all around a subject, Derek has no great faith that Stiles does. Derek is not much of a sharer himself, but talking seems to be Stiles thing. Then again, he doesn’t really talk about his mother, so maybe he doesn’t actually want to talk about the really bad things. Derek supposes everybody deals with things in their own way. He wants to make it better, help somehow, but he has no idea how. He knows that all the people around Stiles that are in the know are trying to help – being very careful, giving him space. It doesn’t seem to be working as Stiles has started avoiding all of them.

After a Friday pack meeting (and how did he get a pack that’s not only all teenagers, but has so many humans in it?), where everybody had been distracted by Stiles’ absence, Derek wants to do something, should do something. He just doesn’t know what. As if in answer, his cell rings with a call from Stiles.

“Stiles?”

“Um, no. Miguel? This is Danny, you know, Stiles’ lab partner? We met awhile back.”

“Why do you have Stiles’ phone?” Derek maybe panics a little, thinking of all the things that could have happened.

“Yeah, I’m at a party and Stiles is here and he’s kind of, um, wasted. I tried to get him in my car and drive him home, but he won’t go. I tried to get ahold of Scott, but I couldn’t reach him and you were in his contacts. I thought maybe if you came to pick him up, he would go.”

“Where are you?”

Danny tells him where they are. Derek drives over, berating himself for giving Stiles space. Obviously, he should have done something different. He gets to the address and walks around to the backyard, where Danny had said they were. They’re pretty far from the house and the other people that are outside. Stiles is lying on the grass, apparently contemplating the sky and Danny is standing nearby, looking at Stiles with a frown.

Danny looks up when Derek gets closer and says, “Miguel,” in a relieved voice which makes Stiles look over, startled.

Stiles snorts and says, “His name’s not Miguel.”

Danny looks confused. “But his name is in your contact list.”

“I thought it was funny. That’s Derek. Derek Hale. And he’s not my cousin.”

Danny’s looking a little alarmed. “Should I call your dad?”

“Oh, relax. All that with the accused murderer and fugitive stuff was big misudder, misunderstanding.” Stiles looks straight at Derek and says flatly, “He won’t hurt me. He won’t even touch me,” and then in a softer voice, “No one will.”

Derek feels a little sick. He hadn’t realized. No wonder Stiles had been avoiding them.

“You all treat me like I’m fragile. Like I’m going to shatter.” Stiles looks back up at the sky. “Maybe I am. I guess I am damaged,” he says a little sadly, hiccupping at the end.

Derek’s suddenly so angry at himself, at Peter, at the world. “You’re not. You’re not _damaged_.”

Stiles blearily focuses on him again and says challengingly, “Kiss me.”

Derek blinks. “What?”

“Prove it. Kiss me.”

“Stiles, you’re drunk.”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “Yeah, whatever. I knew you wouldn’t.” He smirks scornfully and Derek gets the impression it’s aimed inward.

Derek drops to his knees and leans over Stiles. He presses his lips to Stiles’ and it’s a few seconds before he responds. It’s sloppy and Derek can taste the liquor in Stiles’ mouth, but it’s good. Danny clears his throat and Derek pulls back, embarrassed that he’d forgotten the other boy was there. Derek looks down at Stiles. Stiles is looking back.

After a minute, Stiles says, “I think I’m ready to go home.”

Derek nods.

Stiles looks at Danny and says, “I suppose you’re going to treat me differently now, too.”

Danny has a complicated expression on his face. He smiles a little sardonically and says, “I’m still not attracted to you,” as he offers Stiles a hand up. 

Stiles takes his hand and Danny pulls him up. Stiles staggers a little. He smiles goofily at Danny. “You’re a good guy.”

“Whatever, Stilinski.”

Danny turns to Derek. “You’ll be okay getting him home?”

Derek nods.

Danny studies him for a moment and then says, “Okay.”

Derek herds Stiles off to his car, catching him by the arm when he stumbles and keeping a hand there even when he’s steady. He drives him home in silence. The house is dark when they get there. Derek looks at Stiles in askance. “Dad’s working tonight. First time in weeks he’s on the late shift.”

Derek gets him into the house and up to his bedroom. He helps him take his shoes off and gets him settled on the bed. “Stiles. Hey, pay attention,” he says when Stiles looks like he’s going to drift off.

“What?”

“Come find me tomorrow. When you’re sober and if you’re sure, come find me and say it again.”

Stiles looks at him consideringly and then nods.

Derek nods back and then leaves. He gets back to his place and it takes a long time before he can get to sleep. He’s up early. Even knowing there’s no way Stiles will be awake and functional anytime soon, he can’t help the anticipation he feels. But as the day wears on, and he waits, trying to keep himself busy around the house, the anticipation diminishes. It’s almost seven when he gives up and the disappointment is bitter. He goes for a run through the woods. Exercise has always been a comfort to him, letting him focus purely on the physical, usually able to push emotions away and not have to think about anything. It takes him almost a hour before he succeeds in getting Stiles out of his head. He doesn’t know how many miles he’s run as he turns back for home. He’s nearly there when he scents Stiles on the wind. Stiles is sitting on the steps, waiting.

“Hey,” Stiles says when he sees him.

“I thought you weren’t coming,” Derek blurts out and then curses himself for doing it.

“I was kind of hungover. And I wanted to be completely sober and completely sure before I came.”

“And are you?”

Stiles gives him a lopsided smile. “Kiss me.”

And Derek does.


	4. It’s Got to Be a Pack Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Prompt](http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/784.html?thread=120080#t120080): Derek/Scott/Stiles - On the Run. the threesome is on the run from werewolf hunters, and start to develop a relationship (equal partners 3some please.)

When Scott and Allison break up near the end of July, it feels real. Which is weird because they've broken up and got back together three times already. But this feels final and Stiles breathes a (silent) sigh of relief. He likes Allison, he does. But she and Scott just can't work, at least not the way they were doing it. They keep all kinds of secrets from one another (family for her, pack for him), it's insane. Stiles actually thinks the fact that they know that the secrets exist is a great deal of the problem.

Anyway, he's not just relieved, but even a little thankful, even though Scott's all mopey (somehow he doesn't seem as bad this time around, maybe it just hasn't really hit him yet). Stiles had read _Romeo and Juliet_ freshman year and watching an even more screwed up version play out in front of him had so not been in his plans. Plus, he really doesn't want to be Mercutio. It sucks when life plays out like a Shakespearean tragedy (or if he thinks about it a little too long, several of them).

So Scott is mopey, even if it's not the uber-mope he usually gets on, and he's oddly clingy. And now that he thinks about it, Derek's been a little more present and touchy-feely, too. Maybe it's a pack thing. Stiles is pack (he thinks, he hopes), but he's still human and can't quite figure out wolf-to-wolf interaction or wolf-to-human interaction (hell, sometimes he still has trouble with human-to-human interaction). Every time he tries to get someone to explain, he gleans a little more, but not enough to understand (also, Scott's attempts at explanation leave a lot to be desired - "It's like this feeling, like a, a thing, except not like that, like we know, but we don't."). Derek's explanations are mostly annoyed grunts, but every once in awhile, he'll say something like, "Sometimes we can sense what the other is sensing, like a ghost of a touch or an echo of a sound." Which Stiles found interesting and maybe a little creepy.

Stiles decides he should do something, plan something, get Scott out of his funk. He hits upon the perfect idea - road trip. He sets about convincing his father and Mrs. McCall. It takes all his skill at wheedling and still it almost doesn’t happen until Derek volunteers to go with them (he doesn’t actually know how Derek found out because he hadn’t even told Scott, planning to surprise him once it was all organized like the awesome best friend he is). Both his dad and Scott’s mom trust Derek now – they think he’s a responsible guy that keeps them out of trouble (well, he tries to anyway). Stiles feels a little bad about that trust since they still don’t know about the werewolf thing and he has no idea how they would react if they found out, but, for now, he’s not telling. So, it’s set, road trip to Yellowstone – a couple of easy days driving there (yeah, they could probably do it in one, but, uh, no), a few days camping, and a couple days driving back. Hopefully, they can keep Scott sufficiently distracted and he won’t have to worry about running into Allison.

~~~

Stiles planned most everything out, made lists so he wouldn’t forget anything, while Derek had got an SUV from somewhere (Stiles is very thankful - he loves his Jeep, but Derek somehow makes it seem awfully small). Stiles planned where to stop, what camping equipment to bring, what snack food to eat for each part of the trip, but he didn’t plan on there being hunters at Yellowstone or that the hunters would hone in on them or that they would have to evade them, make sure the hunters had no idea where Derek and Scott and Stiles live. So, instead of a nice camping trip, they are now taking a very circuitous route back home, trying to stay ahead of the hunters and their network, being as careful as they can not to attract attention, very mindful of being followed.

~~~

Stiles follows Derek into the hotel room, Scott following him closing the door behind them. Stiles is so tired he could cry. Derek flips on the light, Stiles looks around the room and just kind of stops. It's a fairly innocuous hotel room, a little rundown, but not, like, crappy. It's not that he was expecting the Ritz or anything special when Derek had pulled in and gone into the office to check them in. What's giving him pause, is the bed. The _one_ bed. True, it's a big-ass king bed, but still, there's just the one. Stiles considers going back out to the car to grab a sleeping bag because he's really not sure if he wants to sleep in the same bed as both Scott and Derek. Even before the tension of the whole being-chased-by-people-who-want-to-catch-and/or-kill-us thing, there had been a weird vibe between Scott and Derek. Stiles would swear they've been having silent arguments. Not that Derek's ever that much of a talker, letting body language speak for him a lot of the time. But Scott can usually be counted on to talk (even if it's not always that coherent). In fact, Scott's been quiet the whole trip. He hasn't even mentioned Allison once. 

Now that Stiles thinks about it, maybe Derek, like, forbade Scott from talking about her or something. Stiles looks at Derek and ponders this. Something has to be done if it's upsetting Scott this much. Maybe Scott and Allison could work. Maybe if Stiles can just come up with enough contingency plans for anything that could go wrong, Scott could get back with Allison and be happy again. It's kind of exhausting even thinking about it, but Stiles knows he can do it. Now, Scott just has to fix it. Stiles studies Derek because he probably won't be happy about Stiles bringing it up (duh, werewolf dating a hunter, of course he'd been good with the breakup). Stiles gives a mental shrug, well, if there's one thing Stiles is good at, it's being foolhardy.

"You know, if you would just tell Allison some of your wolf stuff, she would probably tell you some of her hunter stuff and then you could both relax and oh, I don't know, trust each other again," Stiles says as casually as he can.

Scott stares at him. "I can't," he says shortly.

"Why not? You tell me all kinds of things."

"That's different, you're… well, you're Stiles."

Stiles looks at him a little skeptically. "Well, dude, that's a nice thought, I guess, but-"

"You're pack," Derek breaks in.

Stiles blinks over at him. “I’m pack?” he asks, taken aback. He quickly recovers and goes on, “I mean, of course I’m pack, but couldn’t Allison be pack, too?”

“No,” Derek says curtly, Scott echoing him, softer, but just as definite.

“But-“

“Stiles, why are you pushing this? You were always on me to pay more attention to things other than Allison,” Scott says.

Stiles sighs. “Okay, look, your priorities kind of go out the window when you’re with her, but, well, she makes you happy and, um, you should be. Happy, I mean.”

“Ah, Stiles, such a good friend,” Scott says teasingly.

“Yes, I am. I am an awesome friend,” Stiles says, a little affronted.

Scott looks at him with a lopsided smile and says sincerely, “Yeah, you are.”

“I’m glad you recognize that,” Stiles says loftily.

Derek snorts and rolls his eyes.

“ _Anyway_ , about Allison-“

“Stiles, Allison and I, we tried and we tried and after a while, we realized it just wasn’t going to work. It really hadn’t been working for a while, but we didn’t want to admit it. Even when we weren’t fighting, things were really tense. I was having a lot of problems with control.”

Oh. Stiles knows that means wolfing out or coming close anyway. “Oh. Sorry, man. You could have told me.”

“Maybe I didn’t want to get pelted with lacrosse balls again.”

“Hey, I totally would have come up with something else. I can be creative.”

“I know.”

“Is that all you want to tell Stiles, Scott?” Derek asks. It sounds almost like a challenge.

Scott narrows his eyes at Derek and bites out, “Yes.”

Derek gives him an unimpressed look and sets his bag down, opens it, grabs some things from it and says, “I’m taking a shower.” He goes into the bathroom and shuts the door.

Stiles waffles a bit, looking at the bathroom door. He’s tired, but maybe he should wait for Derek to finish and take a shower, too. It’s been a really long day, a day full of worry, and now he’s going to be sharing a bed with two werewolves with their werewolf senses.

“Dude, you smell fine,” Scott says.

Stiles looks over at him, startled.

“You said that out loud,” Scott says, amused.

Stiles hangs his head. It’s hard enough not to blurt out his every thought, but when he gets tired… well, he could be a supervillan with his monologue-ing. 

~~~

Stiles wakes up abruptly. Maybe because the curtains aren’t closed all the way and dawn’s light is creeping through the parting. Or maybe because of the tension in the room. Or, more likely, because of the two guys glaring with glow-y eyes (and maybe even growling a little) at each other across Stiles. Like, literally across Stiles - he’s on his side, with Scott plastered to his front and Derek snug against his back, both of their heads tilted up so they can see each other across Stiles’ head. Weird that he’s in the middle, he could swear he went to sleep on the edge of the bed.

“Oh, Jesus, what? Is it the hunters? Have they found us? Can you hear them? Do we need to go?” The questions spill from his mouth even as he tries to get his brain and body awake and working in tandem so he can get up and out.

This distracts them both and they look at him. “What?” Scott asks.

“That’s why you’re both all hackles raised, right?” That doesn’t get a reply, so Stiles fights his way onto his back, using his shoulders and elbows to push them both back. It’s a little better with them separated by the width of his shoulders, although maybe he should think about working out more. Then again, how often is he going to need to keep people apart using his shoulders?

“Alright, what the hell is going on? You two have been all-“ Stiles breaks off and waves his hands around as he searches for a word, “I don’t know, weirdly _hostile_. Oh, oh wait, are you, like, going to fight for dominance or something? Oh, wow, please don’t do it with me in the middle.”

Scott gives him a puzzled look and says, “No, Stiles, we aren’t going to fight. Derek’s just being a-“

Derek cuts Scott off, saying, “Scott has something he wants to say to you.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, he does.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

And they’re back to the glaring. Then Derek raises an eyebrow and says, “Scott wants you,” and it almost sounds like a challenge.

Stiles opens his mouth, then closes it, not sure what to say.

Scott narrows his eyes at Derek and says, “Derek wants you, too.” And that’s definitely a challenge.

“What? But you, I, what?” Stiles shakes his head. “Wait,” he says and points at Derek, “ _you_ don’t even _like_ me and,” then he points at Scott, “what about Allison?”

“I told you, Allison and I, we’re over. We’d been over for a while, we just didn’t want to admit it. It’s over and I’m over it,” Scott says with finality.

Then Derek chimes in with, “I do.”

“You do what?” Stiles asks, confused.

“Like you.”

Stiles is pretty sure the skepticism is coming off of him in waves. “Yeah.”

“I let you get away with a lot more than anyone else. I listen to you. I’ve told you more about werewolves than I’ve ever told anyone. I’ve told you more about myself than I’ve ever told anyone,” Derek says and then pauses for a long moment, “I trust you.”

Stiles stares at Derek as he processes all of that. For Derek, that was almost a declaration of love. He looks over to Scott questioningly, wondering if he’s going to say something like that.

Scott gives him a half-smile and shrugs, “You’re Stiles.” 

And, in it’s way, that’s as much of a declaration and Derek’s. Stiles looks between the two of them and says, “Okay, okay, so you… want me. Both of you. Okay, but what does that mean? Do you, what, want me to choose?”

Scott looks over at Derek, then looks at Stiles. He takes a deep breath and says, “Actually, no. We kind of want you to not choose.”

“Did that make sense to you in your head? Because it sure didn’t out loud,” Stiles says.

“All of us,” Derek says.

Stiles looks at him and the light dawns. “Oh. So, wait, a threesome with two werewolves? Two _guy_ werewolves?”

“You thought it would be with two girl werewolves?” Derek asks sarcastically.

“No, I thought my _first_ , um, I don’t know, thing, relationship would be with a girl. And then the next one with a guy. And then maybe, maybe a threesome with a guy and a girl. Nowhere did werewolves come into it. I never even thought to consider a werewolf. No, okay, that’s a lie, I thought about it. A little. Some. A few times. But my point was, wait, what was my point?” Stiles isn’t even sure what he’s saying anymore. “Oh, yeah, I guess I thought I would go the conventional route before branching out. This isn’t like being thrown in the deep end of the pool, it’s like being dropped in the middle of the ocean.”

Derek’s face goes stony and Scott’s goes blank. “So, that’s a no, then,” Scott says.

“No. I mean, no, it’s not a no. It’s just an observation. And a little bit of a freak out. I’m allowed. You kind of dropped this on me. It was a shock. For me, obviously, not for you. You knew, you had talked about this. Oh my God, how long have you been talking about this? About me? What did you talk about? Like, logistics? Was it-“

“Stiles!” Scott gives him a look.

“What? No, sorry, right. I do have a couple of questions that I do need answers to,” Stiles says, pulling himself back.

“What questions?” Derek asks.

“If this doesn’t work, or more likely ends in destruction given our respective histories or non-histories, what happens?”

“What do you mean?” Scott asks.

“Are we still- Do we go our separate ways?”

“We are still pack. We may need some time away from each other, but we will always be pack,” Derek says.

“Okay. And this is for real, right? Not just sex. I mean, sex is fine, good even.”

“Not just sex,” Scott says.

“And it’s all of us, right? Not like, um, me and Scott and then me and you?” Stiles asks, looking at Derek.

“Like I said, all of us. All of us, all together. Me and you, you and Scott, Scott and me.”

“Okay.”

“Any more questions?” Scott asks.

“Have you, um, done anything?”

“What?”

“Have you and Derek done anything, you know, together?”

“We kissed, once.”

“Twice,” Derek interjects.

“The first one didn’t count,” Scott says, making a face. “It sucked,” he says as an aside to Stiles.

Derek concedes the point.

“Can I- Would you, um-“

“You want to watch us kiss?” Derek asks, looking intrigued.

“I, yes.”

Derek looks at Scott and then they both lean in. Stiles has a very good view since they’re right over him. It’s weird and hot at the same time. They pull back and then they both flare their noses and look down at him. Stiles is confused for a second and then gets that they’re, like, scenting his reaction.

“You liked that,” Derek says.

“A lot,” Scott says.

“Shut up, yes, shut up. Okay, um, yes. No, I mean, I’m saying yes. To this. To all of us.” 

Derek and Scott both smile. Their smiles look a little predatory. Stiles is pretty sure he likes that too.


	5. Came Out of Nowhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Prompt](http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/3353.html?thread=2020889#t2020889) by [](http://januarylight.livejournal.com/profile)[**januarylight**](http://januarylight.livejournal.com/): Derek/Stiles, established relationship, fluff. The Hales survived the fire. Derek has been reluctant to introduce Stiles to them because he is expecting it to be a disaster of epic proportions -- the sixteen-year-old human sheriff's son? -- but he forgot that he was talking about *Stiles*, and who can resist Stiles? Derek certainly couldn't. Or anything that's pure fluff. I'm not fussy.

Linda wipes her mouth with her napkin to cover her smile. Her son, her Derek, just looks so uncomfortable while Stiles enthusiastically extols the virtues of multiplayer games to Megan. Laura’s eyes are bright when she meets Linda’s gaze, sharing her amusement. Doug still seems a little confused by Derek’s choice of companions, but she knows her husband and knows he’ll be as supportive as he knows how. Linda feels like hugging the boy, not just because she finds his talkativeness oddly endearing or because he looks like he could use some mothering, but because she’s sure that he’s the reason that her son is suddenly more like he used to be.

Derek’s been so pulled in on himself, so focused on not making any mistakes, for so long now. Linda’s really not the type to wish harm on anyone and she’s been very conscientious about teaching those of her children with the gift how not to hurt anyone unintentionally, but she wishes she had had a few minutes with that Argent woman before the authorities had gotten to her. Linda’s still angry that Kate Argent only got fifteen years for arson and attempted murder. That woman, that hunter, had not only come very close to destroying their family, she had damaged Derek’s ability to trust. Linda knows that Derek has been punishing himself for six years because of Kate Argent. There were times that Linda was sure he would never forgive himself, never find someone that he could love and trust.

The last few weeks, though, Derek’s been different. Less detached, less iron control over his emotions. And then, two days ago, while on his phone, he’d smiled, a real honest-to-God happy smile, something she hadn’t seen in so long. So, she’d all but demanded to know who he’d been talking to. Then, a little pushing on her part and a dinner invitation and here they were.

Linda watches as Stiles draws in her entire family. Even her prickly little Hannah, who doesn’t like it when someone else is the focus of her big brother’s attention. She watches Derek as he tries to hide his fondness beneath exasperation as Stiles almost knocks over his water glass as he talks with his hands. Stiles is nothing like who she’d imagined Derek would be attracted to. She’d thought maybe someone quiet, who would match her son’s intensity. Although, she supposes that, in a way, Stiles does match it. She’s glad. Derek needs someone who can stand up to him, someone who can challenge him, keep him from brooding. Stiles _is_ a little young, which she’s sure bothers Derek. She knows her son will go out of his way not to take advantage.

It’s not until dinner is almost over that she realizes that Stiles is nervous, when he looks at Derek like he needs reassurance that it’s going well. And Derek makes a little joke and Stiles laughs. It’s such a small touch of silliness, but Linda blinks back tears because she can’t remember the last time Derek allowed himself to be silly. She excuses herself to the kitchen to get dessert and a takes a moment to collect herself. She goes back out to the table with the cake. As she serves Stiles, she tells him, with a smile, how happy she is that he was able to join them for dinner. He gives her a sweet smile and thanks her. She thinks she should probably be the one thanking him, but she accepts his thanks and tells him he’s welcome anytime.


	6. A Little Werewolf Oven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Prompt](http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/2069.html?thread=1411093#t1411093): Derek/Stiles, cuddle for the heat. Dudes, I'm freezing right now! So can a wet Stiles cuddle with a werewolf Derek for heat in the dead of winter. Like, Derek seems to be in control enough of the 'beast' that he could be a valuable heat source without bitting off your head. And Stiles is all trembling 'oh Derek, what big teeth you have, geezus I don't care I'm so cold, hug me!' so he's battling his natural fear of a monster with the reality that it's so cold he'd turn into a stiles-popcicle without the furry beast. Derek... is Derek. He's always up for cuddling with his pack.

Stiles wants it understood that it’s not his fault. There was a very specific set of circumstances that led to him ending up in the lake. He tries to explain them to Derek as he half drags, half carries Stiles along, but he’s not sure he’s making himself clear between his chattering teeth and his numb brain, which seems to be getting fuzzier by the second.

“Stiles,” Derek says warningly.

Stiles stops talking.

Except that’s apparently not what Derek wanted because he growls out, “Stiles!” again.

Stiles is totally going to start talking again because his teeth have stopped chattering and he feels a little less cold. Yeah, he’s definitely moved from Antarctic to just Arctic. Except wait, is the Arctic less cold than the Antarctic? It seems like it should be. He will look that up later. He’s suddenly jolted and then Derek’s face is right in his.

“Stiles!”

“What? Wow, you’re always mad at me. I should go to… somewhere else. Home! I should go here. There, I mean.”

“I’m taking you to my place, it’s closer.”

“Oh.”

There’s something not right about that, but Stiles is having a little trouble thinking. He vaguely wonders why. He doesn’t ever remember his thoughts moving so slowly before.

“Stiles, say something.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes.”

“What should I say?”

“I cannot believe it, he never stops talking, except, of course, when I want him to,” Derek mutters.

It sounds like Derek’s talking to himself, but Stiles is right here. “Contrary.”

“What?”

“I’m contrary like that. Like the cat.”

“What cat?”

“In Alice in Wonderland. Wait, maybe it was Alice who was contrary. Or no, Mary.”

“Mary?”

“Like the nursery rhyme. Except she was real. A queen.”

“Stiles, you aren’t making any sense.”

“Fine, I’ll stop talking.”

“No. Um, what’s your name?”

Now Stiles is really confused. “Stiles?” It comes out as a question because he’s not really sure of anything anymore.

“No, your actual name.”

“Oh. Oh. No. Huh-uh.”

“Fine. What’s your favorite book?”

Stiles gives Derek a confused look. “Book?”

“You can read, yes?”

“Yes. I, Green Eggs and Ham.” Stiles blinks. He didn’t actually mean to say that.

Derek looks at him strangely.

“I, it’s, I meant The Shining.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Did too.”

“Stiles.”

“My mom. She used to- I remember her reading it to me.”

“Okay,” Derek says softly. “Tell me how you and Scott met.”

Stiles means to be vague and say something about meeting on the playground. Instead, the whole embarrassing story about the dodge ball to the face spills out. On the plus side, he’s pretty sure he tells it without a whole lot of coherence.

~~~

Somehow, they make it back to the Hale house. Derek hustles him inside to the finished part of the house. He has Stiles stripped down and wrapped in a blanket in his bedroom practically before Stiles can blink. Stiles feels almost drunk, except it’s not fun at all. Then Derek sort of disappears off somewhere. And Stiles is glad to be out of his wet and freezing clothes, but the blanket doesn’t really seem to be working at all.

“Um, Derek?” Stiles calls out. “Not to be like a pest or anything, but I’m still really cold. I read somewhere something about body heat? Derek?” Stiles startles back as Derek suddenly reappears in the doorway carrying more blankets. “Oh.”

Derek spreads the blankets over the bed and then holds up a corner. “Get in.”

Stiles climbs in. Derek starts to strip and Stiles closes his eyes, maybe blushing a little. He opens them again when he feels Derek get into bed. And he flinches a little because Derek’s started to transform. “Whoa, what? Why are you doing that?”

“My body temperature is higher when I’m a wolf.”

“Really? Why? No, wait, never mind, it doesn’t matter. As long as you don’t eat me, we’re good.”

“No promises,” Derek says dryly.

“Ha.”

It takes a few minutes, but with Derek wrapped around him, Stiles finally starts to warm up. The fur’s actually kind of nice, softer than he’d expected. All of a sudden, Stiles is exhausted. He feels weirdly safe. “Thanks,” he whispers as he drops off to sleep.

~~~

Derek studies Stiles as he sleeps. He’s a little uncomfortable with how satisfying it is to be taking care of Stiles. He knows a part of it is just pack. Stiles was actually first. Before Scott, before Jackson. It had taken Derek some time to realize it because this pack felt nothing like his family had.

He remembers his mother telling him how each individual, human or werewolf, feels the pack bond differently and reacts differently to it. He’d always felt it like an almost tangible thing and each member of his family had felt like some form of water to him. His mother was like a deep, still lake, his father, a wide river, his little sisters, a winding stream and a babbling brook. Laura had been like a waterfall and Peter like a hot spring. His bond with Laura had felt different after the fire, both more encompassing and less… present, somehow. His bond with Peter had been warped by the fire (and later by Peter himself) into something Derek hadn’t recognized until Peter had shown himself. (He’d thought it was because Peter’s mind was unreachable, how Peter had felt like fog, obscuring and revealing by turns, there, but untouchable, insubstantial, easily slipping away.)

His new pack is so unlike what he’d had before. All so young and searching. It feels so different to Derek. Jackson feels like glass and Scott like metal, like lead. Stiles is like the spark in the air before lightning, static electricity. Derek abruptly wonders how Stiles experiences the bond. He wonders what he feels like to Stiles, if Stiles even recognizes it for what it is. He might, Stiles is more intuitive than Scott or Jackson and he has better instincts (even if he doesn’t always follow them).

Stiles body temperature is almost back to normal. Derek holds him a little closer, careful of his claws as he cradles his packmate. Derek had been really worried when Stiles had stopped talking. It’s hard to remember how fragile humans can be, especially one so resilient. He thinks about offering the bite again, but doesn’t want to get refused again. It had been a spontaneous offer after Stiles had asked him about Jackson. Derek hadn’t realized how much he’d wanted Stiles to accept until Stiles had said no, even though part of him had been very concerned about the possibility of Stiles dying. 

Derek feels almost happy, _cuddled_ up to Stiles like this. If the rest of his pack was a little closer, it would be almost perfect. He still misses his family. So much. Even Peter. But the ache inside is a little less each day. Having a new pack helps, even with their exasperating behavior. Stiles moves a little, starting to wake up. Derek starts to transform back. Stiles is not _wary_ exactly, but a little more twitchy when Derek’s a wolf.

Stiles yawns and smacks his lips. His eyes blink open. “What? Who?” he asks, sleepily confused.

“What do I feel like?” Derek blurts out.

“What? Feel like? You? I don’t know, you feel like _you_.” Stiles flails his hands a little. “Like stone. Wait, that doesn’t make sense, does it? I don’t know why I said that.”

“What kind of stone?”

“I don’t- Sandstone, but that’s, I can’t-“

“It’s okay, Stiles. Tell me why.”

“I don’t know,” Stiles, almost wailing.

“Yes, you do.”

“Because, because it’s layers, it’s lots of things. And it’s hard and seems cold, but it isn’t always. It’s rough, but not, like, in a bad way.”

“It’s shaped by water,” Derek says, mostly to himself.

“It can be, yeah. So, wait then, why do you feel like that?”

“It’s the pack bond.”

“Scott doesn’t feel like that.”

“It’s different for everyone in the pack, no one will feel the same as anyone else.”

“Oh. Cool.” Stiles smiles, then frowns. “Crap.”

“What?”

“This is why I think of graham crackers whenever I see Jackson now, isn’t it?”

“So?”

“I _like_ graham crackers. And Jackson’s… Jackson.”

“He’s pack. We’re pack.”

“Pack. Yeah, okay.” Stiles smiles again.

“It’s getting late. You need to get home soon.”

Stiles sighs a little. “A little longer, okay? Dad’s on night shift.”

As long as you want, Derek thinks, but he all he says is, “Okay.”


	7. Might Want to Rethink that Definition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Prompt](http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/2069.html?thread=807957#t807957): GEN, possible human alpha? I’m curious to know what would have happened if a human had killed Peter. Say Stiles managed to kill him (I’m thinking self-defence), either when Peter had him tracking Scott’s phone, or over by Derek’s house in the end ... or at some other time. Or say that Papa Stilinski killed Peter in some situation, maybe to save Stiles? Or just ... whatever, really. I’d like to know what would have happened then - who would be the alpha? And if a HUMAN would be the alpha, what would that mean for the pack?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s notes: AU after the parking garage scene in episode 1x12 (Code Breaker).

Stiles is not entirely sure what made Peter change his mind about leaving Stiles behind, but he can't help but be apprehensive about what Peter's plans for him and everyone else might be. So, Stiles alternates between watching the road and watching Peter drive, looking for his chance. There's a curve coming up and he makes his move, grabbing the wheel. Peter fights it, but Stiles is tenacious. But apparently he misjudges the timing and the car doesn't just go off the road and get stuck in a ditch. No, the car careens down a steep hill, picking up speed, and slams into something so hard that Stiles can't breathe, his seatbelt jerked tight. Peter, not wearing his seatbelt, goes through the windshield. It happens so fast. Stiles sits numbly in the still running car for what is probably only a few moments, but feels like hours. He sort of wonders why the airbags didn't deploy, but he can't quite seem to care. There's a roaring in his ears. He can't see where Peter landed over the crumpled up hood.

He undoes his seatbelt, gingerly, since he's beginning to ache. He goes to open the car door, but it takes a few tries and his full weight thrown against it. He's shaky, expecting Peter to pop up in the second. He stumbles out of the car and slowly to the front. He gags when he gets there. There, illuminated by the headlights, is Peter's head, a few feet from his body. Stiles backs up around the car and winds up back in the passenger seat. After minute of just sitting there, swallowing, he reaches over and turns the engine off. The sudden silence is unnerving. He sits for a while until it occurs to him to look for phone. He finds one and calls his dad.

"Dad, Dad, I- Oh, God. He's dead and his head, it's- Dad, I didn't mean- He killed the nurse and _she_ helped him. He was going after Scott and Derek. I don't know-"

"Stiles."

"-what he was going to do. To them or to me. He attacked Lydia and he made me find them and then he wouldn't let me go. He was the one at the school. He killed those people. I didn't know-"

"Stiles."

"-what to do, so I grabbed for the wheel and the car just, just-"

"Stiles!"

Stiles stops, almost sobbing.

“Stiles,” his dad says gently.

“Dad,” Stiles says shakily.

“Where are you, son?”

“Mill Road, after the curve. I got it wrong. The car went down the hill. I, Dad, I-“

“It’s okay, kiddo. Now, you said he’s dead – who is _he_?”

“Peter Hale.”

“Hale?”

“Derek’s uncle. He was in the fire. It, it did something to him, Dad. He was, he was-“

“Stiles, you said he killed someone.”

“He killed _everyone_.”

“Like the nurse?”

“She’s in the trunk. She was helping him. Derek thought he was catatonic.”

“Derek, who you and Scott thought was a killer.”

“I was wrong. We were wrong. It was all Peter. It was him at the school. He’s the one that killed Derek’s sister. His own niece. God, Dad.”

“Okay, Stiles, okay. You said he was dead – are you sure about that?”

“Really, really dead. Dad, I need you here,” Stiles says, his voice breaking.

“I’m coming, Stiles. Just sit tight.”

~~~

Everything is very chaotic for a while. Stiles ends up in the hospital being treated for minor injuries and shock. And he gets asked, like, a thousand questions about seventeen times each – by his dad, by deputies, by a few other official sorts of people. What with one thing or another, it feels like forever before he’s back home. He kind of wants to sleep for the next week and forget about Peter and how he died. He wants to forget how his father’s face had looked as he’d listened to Stiles tell what happened. And how it had looked when a nurse had helped Stiles out of his clothes – the bruising had been epic. But he can’t, he needs to talk to Scott. While he’d been off with Peter, Scott had almost been shot by Allison’s Aunt Kate, who, it turns out, had been behind the Hale fire, along with the other people Peter had killed, besides the nurse and Laura. So, Kate Argent had been arrested.

Stiles’ dad gets him settled on the couch and asks, “You going to be okay here on your own for a little while?”

“Yeah, I’m just going to try to call Scott again.”

“Well, don’t worry too much if you can’t reach him, he’s probably dealing with what happened to him.”

“I know, that’s what I need to talk to him about.”

His dad nods and stands to leave.

“Dad?”

“What?”

Stiles hates to bring it up, but he has to know. “Is there going to be a trial?”

“What?”

“It’s my fault Peter Hale is dead.”

His dad takes a deep breath. “Stiles, that man terrorized you and you friends at the school. He violently assaulted Lydia Martin and then threatened to kill her to coerce you into finding your best friend. He kidnapped you, threatened you, made sure you knew he was capable of killing. He had killed someone who had helped him and seriously injured someone he didn’t know. He was a very dangerous individual and you did what you had to to survive. You were in imminent danger and you acted in self-defense. Even if you wanted him dead, and nobody would blame you for that, you were doing your best to keep him from hurting you or anybody else. No one is looking to press charges. I thought you knew that or I would have made it clear earlier.”

“Oh,” Stiles says, his voice wavering a little. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Yeah. You sure you’re okay here?”

“Go. I’ll be fine.”

~~~

Stiles tries to call Scott and then gives up after the fourth time the call goes to voicemail. He tries to take a nap, but when he closes his eyes, he sees Peter. He turns on the TV and after flipping through the channels twice, he settles on an episode of NCIS. It’s weirdly comforting. Scott shows up and lets himself in just as an episode ends.

“Hey,” Scott says.

“Hey,” Stiles pauses and then bursts out with, “Dude, I didn’t mean to, with Peter Hale, um, like, take away your chance to-“

“No, Stiles. He could’ve killed you. I’m pissed, but mostly at him. And Kate Argent – she kind of started the whole thing.”

“Yeah, I heard. Dad said she was going to shoot you. Are you okay?”

“Uh, well, Allison knows. Her dad kind of forced it.”

“What?”

“He cornered me and I wolfed out in front of her.”

“God.”

“Stiles, man, the look on her face. Anyway, I went to find Derek. Kate had him chained up and was, like, torturing him.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, and get this – I think they used to date.”

“Kate and Derek? But, she was behind the fire.”

“I know. I think she used him to get to his family.”

“That’s _messed up_. Jeez, no wonder he’s so… sour.”

“Yeah. And Allison sort of shot him with arrows.”

“She did what?”

“And she knew Kate had him locked up.”

“I, I don’t know what to say to that.”

“Yeah, but she stepped between me and Kate when Kate pointed the gun at me. And she feels really terrible about Derek and she apologized to him and got her dad to negotiate a truce with him.

“So, then you two are… okay?”

“I think so,” Scott says with a little smile.

“So, Scott, how is it that we’ve lived our whole lives in this town and somehow never knew about the werewolves and the murderous hunters?”

“Her family didn’t even know about the murderous part and I don’t ever really remember the Hales being around.”

“But this is totally the kind of thing we went looking for when we were younger.”

“I think we were much more concerned about zombies.”

“Oh, yeah. 28 Days Later… and Dawn of the Dead, good movies… that we weren’t supposed to watch. No offense, dude, but if zombies show up, I’m leaving town.”

“I call shotgun.”

They smile at each other.

“Is, um, is Derek okay?” Stiles asks a little hesitantly.

Scott blows out a breath and then shrugs. “I don’t know. He didn’t really seem any different.”

“Why am I asking you? You’re horrible at reading people.”

“Hey!”

Stiles just raises his eyebrows.

Scott rolls his eyes. “Whatever. I don’t really know how he could be okay.”

“Yeah. So, did he say anything about what happens now? I mean, is he your alpha?”

“He didn’t really say anything.”

“Figures. Well, you should probably go home. I bet your mom is as worried about you as my dad has been about me.”

“I was going to go to Allison’s,” Scott says.

Stiles scrunches up his face a little at that.

Scott blinks and looks a little concerned. “Maybe I’ll just go check on my mom first before going over.”

“Hmm,” Stiles says noncommittally.

“I could spend a couple of hours at home before going over to Allison’s.”

Stiles smiles at him. “That’s a good idea.”

Scott smiles back, looking a little puzzled. “Okay, I’ll do that then.”

“Bye.”

“Bye,” Scott says and heads out.

~~~

Stiles gazes dully at the TV, not really watching, when his dad walks in, followed by Derek. Stiles straightens up from his slumped position in surprise and groans as the bruised parts of him protest the sudden movement. He stares at Derek, trying to figure out what’s going on.

“Stiles,” his dad says.

“Dad?”

“You know Derek.”

“Yeah. Hey, dude.”

Derek nods at him.

“Derek’s going to stay here for a few days, if that’s okay with you.”

“What?”

“The Hale house is a crime scene. I thought it might be nice if we offered him a place to stay for a while since he’s been through a lot, including being falsely accused of crimes. Twice.”

“Oh.”

“But only if it’s okay with you.” His dad’s tone is kind of weird. Like he wants to say that Stiles had better be okay with it, but at the same time he doesn’t want to make a unilateral decision if Stiles genuinely isn’t okay with it.

“Oh, uh, yeah, sure. Welcome.” Stiles tries to get up, but it doesn’t work that well. “Ow, ow, ow.” He settles for waving a hand. “Mi casa, no wait, nuestra casa es su casa.”

“Good, that’s settled then.” His dad rests his hand briefly on Stiles’ shoulder and gives a very gentle squeeze. “I’ll go fix us something to eat.”

Stiles gives him an alarmed look. He doesn’t want a repeat of the last time his dad tried to fix dinner. They’d actually broken the smoke detector trying to get it to stop and it had taken forever for the burnt smell to clear out. “Dad, do you really think that’s a good idea?”

“I’ll order pizza.”

“No bacon or sausage on yours.”

“Yes, Stiles. Make yourself at home, Derek. You two can get better acquainted.” His dad goes into the kitchen.

“If you don’t want me here, I can make an excuse and go,” Derek says in a low voice.

“Since when does what I want matter?”

Derek gives him a bit of a glare but his heart doesn’t seem to be in it.

“Look, it’s fine.” Stiles studies him and then says, “So, I’m, um, sorry about Peter.”

Derek looks a little startled. “Why?”

“Whatever else he was, he was your uncle.”

“He hasn’t been the uncle that I knew for a long time. He told me that Laura was an accident, but it wasn’t. He lured her here and killed her.”

“I… have no idea what to say to that.”

“That’s a first.”

“Oh my God. Was that a joke? Did you just make a joke? Am I hallucinating?”

Derek makes a noise that could be a growl if it were a little louder.

“Right, your teeth, et cetera. I’ll stop. But you should be nicer to me - after all, you are staying in my house.”

“You’re right. I apologize.”

“Wow, I fell a chill just then. Must have been from hell freezing over.”

Derek sighs.

“No, wait, sorry. It’s been a really bad few days for me. Which, yeah, you know, you’ve had a sucky week, no, month, year, um, decade,” Stiles says, cringing as he thinks about it.

Derek grunts.

“I, um, don’t remember if I apologized for, you know, accusing you of terrible things. Twice. Except, well, actually, Scott did at the school and I just went along with it. And you did bury your- You know what, never mind, I’m sorry.”

Derek shrugs.

“Okay, then. You should sit down. You’re always looming.” Stiles is sort of shocked when Derek does sit. Stiles cranes his neck to check if his dad is coming back. Which, wow, the pained protest of those muscles tell him it’s just going to suck to move for a while. “Can I ask you a question? Wait, yeah, that’s already a question. I mean a serious one.”

Derek nods.

“What happens now with the alpha thing?” Stiles asks quietly.

“I’m not sure.”

“You aren’t?”

“It depends on a lot of things. I need more information.”

“Like what?”

“Well, when an alpha is killed by another werewolf, that werewolf becomes the alpha. If the alpha just dies, his or her first bitten could become the alpha or if the alpha is a born werewolf, it could pass to a relative. Scott didn’t become the alpha and neither did I,” Derek says matter-of-factly.

“Wait, so if Scott had killed Peter, it would have, what, cancelled itself out? Like a double negative or something?” Stiles asks.

“It’s more complicated than that, but supposedly.”

“So, what then? Is there no alpha?”

“I don’t know.”

“Could it be Lydia?”

“Unlikely. She would have already healed, if so.”

“Huh.”

“Was there anyone else around when Peter died?”

“There was a dead nurse in the trunk.”

“That nurse that was helping him? He killed her?”

“Yeah.”

“Stiles, did Peter… do anything to you?”

“What, like, bite me? No, well, I mean, he offered.”

“He _what_?”

“Whoa, whoa! Put those away. My father is in the next room. You can’t have fangs – he will notice.”

Derek tilts his head down and takes a deep breath. When he looks up again, he’s back in his less (but, only slightly less) intimidating form. “He _offered_ the bite?”

“I said no.” Stiles thinks about asking what’s so important about being offered the bite, but he remembers how creepy Peter had been and given how Derek just reacted, Stiles isn’t sure he wants to know. Now, at least. When he has a little more distance from it, he’ll try to find out.

“Could he have scratched you? Marked you in any way?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Stiles, I need to know how he died.”

Peter’s severed head flashes into Stiles’ mind and he shudders, nauseated. “Why?”

Derek looks at him sharply and opens his mouth, but then Stiles’ dad comes back in the room.

~~~

Stiles stares up as he lies on his bed. He has a feeling he’s going to be doing this a lot, lying awake staring at the ceiling. He wonders if his dad would let him put something up there. Like a flat screen. His dad would probably say no to the TV. He would probably let Stiles paint it, but Stiles doesn’t think that would be any more interesting than it is now. Unless it was, like, a badass mural. Except with his luck, his subconscious would cause him to include a wolf somehow and it would be staring down at him and, just no.

“You should be asleep.”

Stiles startles badly as Derek’s voice comes out of nowhere. This does nothing good for his sore body. “Ow,” he says reproachfully. He looks over and can barely make out Derek, who’s standing in the corner, where the moonlight coming through the window scarcely reaches. “Do you have any idea how creepy it is to come into someone’s bedroom without making a sound? And expecting them to be asleep?”

“I wasn’t-“

“Really, really creepy. Seriously.”

“I just wanted to know about Peter.”

“Oh, yes, the dead of night is the perfect time to talk about the frankly gruesome death of the scary-ass head werewolf who was holding me captive.”

“Stiles-“

“No, we can talk about it tomorrow. In the daylight. When my father’s not in the house to hear about ‘The Secret Life of the American Werewolf’.”

To Stiles’ shock, Derek nods and leaves the room. He wonders if it’s his imagination or if Derek’s being strangely accommodating. He sighs. His life is so much more complicated now. Everything has layers of meanings and everyone has reasons for doing anything and then, like, five different, secret reasons for doing it.

~~~

The next day, after his dad goes to work, Stiles and Derek sit down in the living room to talk. Stiles feels all fidgety and Derek’s intensity doesn’t help. He takes a deep breath and then plunges into what happened after Peter offered him the bite.

“Beheaded?” Derek asks, looking a little horrified.

“Yeah.”

Derek shakes his head, maybe trying to get rid of the mental image. Then it looks like something occurs to him. “What were you thinking when you grabbed the wheel?”

“What was I thinking? That I wanted to get away, but if I couldn’t, maybe I could stop him.”

“Did you think about killing him? Did you want him dead?”

“I don’t- I-“

“It’s really important, Stiles.”

“I wanted him to stop. I didn’t want him to hurt anybody else. I guess there was a part of me that wanted him dead, that tried to figure out a way to kill him,” Stiles says, feeling a little unsteady thinking about it.

Derek pinches the bridge of his nose like his head aches.

“What?”

“An alpha influences their pack and there’s a natural tendency for the pack members to want to keep their alpha happy.”

“Okay, that’s good information to have, but I’m not sure why you’re telling me right now.”

“I think you may be Alpha.”

Stiles scoffs. “That’s ridiculous. I’m human and… no, that’s it, I’m human.”

“I feel differently around you, toward you. Order me to do something. Something that I wouldn’t want to do.”

“What? Why?”

“An alpha can exert a more direct control over pack members, but it has to be a deliberate compulsion. It’s not absolute, otherwise no pack member could challenge their alpha, but it can be difficult to resist.”

“So, if your alpha told you to kill someone and meant it?”

“I would feel a compulsion to do it. I could resist it if I felt strongly enough about it. However, a newly made or a young wolf would find it much more difficult to resist. Of course, some of it depends upon an individual wolf’s personality. An alpha could, with some cunning, manipulate a pack member into a situation where they would almost have to obey, like a kill or be killed sort of thing. That’s why it’s so important to have a good alpha. Now, order me to do something.”

Stiles sighs. “This is stupid. I’m not Alpha.”

Derek just looks at him.

“Fine. Go make me dinner.”

“Stiles, you have to _mean_ it. You have to _want_ it. And make it something I’d be more opposed to.”

Stiles thinks for a moment. “I want to drive your car – give me your keys,” he says as forcefully as he can.

Without hesitation, Derek reaches into his pocket, pulls out his keys, and hands them over.

Stiles drops them on the floor and scoots away. “No, I don’t want that. I don’t want _this_. Oh God, oh God.”

Derek picks up his keys and puts them back in his pocket. “Stiles.”

“What the hell? I mean, really, what the hell? How is this possible? You had better not be messing with me.”

“This isn’t something I would treat as a joke. And I’m not entirely sure how it’s possible.”

“Can’t I give the, um, alphaship, over to you?”

“Not without a physical fight. And it would have to be real.”

“Surely _something_ can be done. Hasn’t this ever happened before?”

“Probably, but if, say, a hunter killed an alpha, one of the pack members would take out the hunter before it became an issue. Otherwise, a human killing an alpha is a pretty unlikely occurrence.”

“But I didn’t, not really. That shouldn’t count.”

“It’s enough. And it was probably helped along by Peter’s offer. It may have acted as an acknowledgement of your… suitability. Intent matters, a lot.”

Stiles will have to ask about the suitability thing later. “So, what now? Should I- Are you going to make me a werewolf?”

“Only an alpha or an alpha’s mate can make a werewolf.”

“Oh my God.”

“You could find another alpha to give you the bite. But you might not survive and either way, Scott and I would be part of that alpha’s pack. And if you survived, there’s a good possibility that you would end up as the alpha’s mate.”

“Mate? I don’t even- Jesus, I had no idea pack structure was so complicated.”

“It’s usually pretty simple.”

“Must just be me then. Wait, you said something about passing it on. Does that mean if I have kids, one of them could become Alpha when I die?”

“Possibly.”

“Argh. No offense, but I kind of wish I’d never had anything to do with werewolves.”

“Sorry,” Derek says gruffly, but like he actually means it.

“No, it’s not your fault. Or mine, even. It’s all on Peter. And Kate, actually. They’re the ones that caused all of this.” Stiles is quiet for a moment, then he rubs a hand over his head. “I’m too young to be a father.”

“You’re not a father.”

“I’m responsible for two people, aren’t I?”

Derek looks like he’s going to protest, but stops and gives a half-shrug, half-nod.

“Yeah, see? Close enough. And what about Lydia? Is she…”

“I don’t know what she is. Scott says her bite didn’t heal, but she didn’t die either. We probably won’t know anything until she wakes up.”

“Fabulous,” Stiles says, putting as much sarcasm as he can into the word.

~~~

Stiles just wants to get a handle on this, find a way to wrap his head around it. So he goes to his dad for advice. His dad is a good father and he oversees all those deputies. All Stiles is looking for is tips for looking after his pack, so he can totally ask in generalities. Except he doesn’t count on his being bad at being vague or on his dad being good at _leaping_ to conclusions. Stiles also fails to account for his inclination to offer too much information about something while he’s trying not to give something else away. All of which means that the conversation becomes this perfect storm of suck, ending with Stiles in full, embarrassed retreat and his dad reaching for a drink or ten. Stiles makes it to his room and he bangs the door shut. He leans back against it, covering his heated face with his hands.

“What’s wrong?”

Stiles barely even jumps at the voice from Derek’s favorite corner of Stiles’ room. Stiles takes his hands away from his face and frowns at Derek. “We need to talk about your habit of just appearing in my room.”

“I like it here,” Derek says with a shrug.

Stiles blinks. “Wow, okay, correct me if I’m wrong, but you seem awfully forthcoming, lately.”

“You’re Alpha.”

“Finally, a perk.”

“Why were you blushing?”

“Why would I tell you? So my utter humiliation can be complete?”

“Maybe I can help.”

“Is that a proposition?” Stiles asks, almost automatically.

Derek gives him a strange look.

“Oh, I guess that only makes sense if know what happened.” Stiles sighs and then decides if he doesn’t tell Derek, he’ll probably end up telling Scott and Scott’s more likely to harp on it. “I may have informed my father that I’ve never even really kissed anyone and maybe then that maybe sort of led to my coming out as bisexual to him.”

“What? Why?”

“Well, he kind of got it into his head that I had gotten someone pregnant which I denied with more information than was strictly necessary.”

“I actually meant-“ Derek breaks off and then asks, “Pregnant? What gave him that idea?”

“I was kind of asking his advice about looking after someone, well, looking after you guys, but I being vague because I wasn’t going to tell him about werewolves or being Alpha and he decided it meant I was going to be a dad. And then I tried to tell him I wasn’t and all this other stuff came out.”

Derek nods, but has the weirdest expression on his face.

Stiles studies him and realizes that he’s trying not to laugh. “Hey! It’s not funny. My dad and I won’t be able to look each other in the eye for at least a couple of days. And since when do you have a sense of humor, anyway?”

“I have a sense of humor. Most of the time you aren’t that funny.”

Stiles is affronted. “I am _hilarious_ , you, you-“ Stiles stops, trying to think of something suitably insulting. And then he sees the hint of a smile on Derek’s face. “Oh my God, you’re _teasing_ me.” At that, Derek’s smile breaks through and Stiles is amazed at how different Derek looks when he’s happy. And he is, happy, and that is a revelation to Stiles. It really has been bad for Derek for so long. Maybe Stiles is okay with being laughed at or teased. A little bit. “Whatever.”

“So, never been kissed, huh?” Derek asks curiously.

“That’s not actually what I said.” Stiles can totally do mysterious. Or maybe not, because Derek is kind of scowling now.

“You’ve been kissed, but you’ve _never really kissed anyone_. What does that mean?”

Stiles looks at Derek, trying to figure out why he seems so upset. “Huh? Oh, not like _that_. A girl during a party game and then a guy who was drunk and then passed out. But _I’ve_ never kissed anyone where it was more than lips against skin, you know, where it _meant something_. So, is this what it’s going to be like now – you going all bristly and overprotective? Aren’t I supposed to look out for you?” 

Derek looks uncomfortable. “Yes, sort of, well, it’s more complicated than that.”

“Of course it is.”

“The relationship between a pack and its alpha is supposed to benefit them both, it’s supposed to be symbiotic. A pack should protect its alpha and its alpha should protect his or her pack. But it’s complicated by the fact that you’re human. And you _are_ too young for this, really. The wolf part of me wants to protect my alpha. And my instincts are to protect someone younger and physically weaker. It’s also what I was taught. If someone you knew, someone who was younger and weaker than you, was possibly being hurt, wouldn’t you do something?”

“Hey, you’re a supernatural creature. It’s not fair of you to use logic.”

Derek snorts.

“Wait a minute, where were your ‘instincts’ when you were throwing me against walls and threatening me and, oh yeah, bouncing my head off my steering wheel?”

“I didn’t cause any serious injury, did I? And it didn’t seem like a bad idea for you to think of werewolves as intimidating, especially since your best friend was a newly-made werewolf with questionable control and there was an alpha running around killing people for a then unknown reason.”

“I guess that sort of makes sense.”

“Not that it worked.”

“What do you mean? It’s engraved in my mind – werewolf equals scary.”

“Except when confronted with scary, you don’t get the hell away. Your pattern seems to go something like this: go up against someone, smart-ass remark, stall, smart-ass remark, then improvise. And I would put your survival down to luck, but no one’s that lucky.”

“I’m just that awesome.”

Derek just shakes his head.

“Okay, you know what? That’s enough sharing for tonight. I’m going to get some sleep.”

“It’s eight-thirty.”

“Well, I’m tired. And I’ve got school tomorrow.”

“Didn’t your dad say you didn’t have to go this week?”

“The longer I stay home, the more I have to catch up on. And it’s kind of boring around here all day with you and dad off working. You are working, right?”

“Yes. Are you feeling well enough to go?”

“Well, I won’t be doing any lacrosse, but what else is new? I’m still sore, but I’m not sleeping all the time. Besides, Scott says the rumors have gotten out of control and if _Scott_ has noticed, they probably have. That reminds me, I need to talk to Scott about the whole alpha thing and I want you to be there.”

“When?”

“Tomorrow, after lacrosse. Here. Dad will be working late. Now, get out of my room.”

Derek frowns, but moves to leave.

“Hey, Derek?”

Derek stops. “What?”

“If you don’t snoop and I don’t specifically order you out, you can be in my room, if you want.”

Derek nods and there’s maybe even a little bit of a smile on his face as he exits.

~~~~

It’s a long day. Driving is sort of nerve-wracking, which sucks because Stiles loves his Jeep. And when he gets to school, the other kids are acting either really weird or like nothing had happened, each of which is unsettling in its own way. Danny’s nice where he’s usually indifferent (unless Stiles is annoying him). Jackson alternates between being a jerk (in other words, acting like himself) and being watchful and even almost helpful. Scott is Scott. Allison is quiet (which Stiles totally understands). There’s a big void where Lydia is supposed to be. And all of his teachers are really sympathetic (Finstock’s version of this is honestly kind of freaky). Stiles doesn’t even attempt to stick around for practice. Stiles is just happy to make it home. It’s even almost a relief that Derek’s car is already in front of the house.

Stiles goes up to his room, drops his bag on the floor, and collapses face down on the bed. “Hey,” he says into the bed.

“Hey. Tough day?” Derek asks from his usual corner.

Stiles turns his head towards Derek. “Could have been worse. Could have been a lot better. A few people think I’m an injured hero, some think I’m just injured and in need of pity, some think I’m a budding sociopath, but to most, I’m still pretty much a cipher.”

“You are not a cipher,” Derek says roughly.

Stiles blinks in surprise and sits up. “I know. But everyone has their circle of people they care about, like, individually. I mean, most people care about other people in general, but if they don’t know them, well… I guess I’m saying, um, everyone has their own pack.”

Derek seems to consider this and then slowly nods.

Then there’s the sound of a door slamming downstairs. “Stiles?” Scott’s voice yells out.

“Up here!” Stiles yells back. He raises his eyebrows at Derek, questioning.

Derek shrugs.

Scott comes rushing into the room, breathing a little hard. “Are you okay?” he asks Stiles, seeming a little frantic.

“I’m fine. Did you run here?”

“Biked. If you’re okay, why weren’t you at practice?”

“It’s not like I was going to be able to do anything except watch. And I was tired and sore. Okay?”

“Okay.” Scott looks a little embarrassed and a lot confused. “I’m not really sure why I was so worried.”

“Um, that’s probably got something to do with what we wanted to talk to you about.”

“We?” Scott looks around the room and seems surprised that Derek is there.

Derek sighs. “You really should have known I was here.”

“I was distracted,” Scott says defensively.

Derek rolls his eyes.

“So, Scott, you know how killing an alpha does something?” Stiles asks.

“Huh?”

“You know, it makes you the alpha or maybe makes you, you know, not a werewolf.”

“I guess.”

“Well, I’m kind of responsible for Peter’s death. And I was already human.”

“That doesn’t count,” Scott says.

“It does.”

“It does,” Derek echoes.

“So, what does that mean, then? You’re the alpha now?” Scott asks, scoffing.

“Yes,” Stiles says.

“He is,” Derek says.

Scott looks between the two of them and says, “Very funny.”

“It’s not a joke,” Stiles says a little apologetically.

“Order him to do something,” Derek says.

“Um, Scott, go apologize to Jackson for threatening him and be as friendly as you can.”

“I…” Scott frowns and then his expression smoothes out. “Okay. I’ll go find him.”

“No, wait, stop, you don’t have to do that,” Stiles says.

Scott stops moving toward the door and looks at Stiles, open-mouthed.

“Now, do you believe me?”

“I was going to go find Jackson. I was going to tell him that I’m sorry and that I think he’s a great team captain and I really like his hair,” Scott says dazedly.

“Not actually what I would have gone with, but alright.”

“You’re Alpha,” Scott blurts out.

“Yeah,” Stiles says.

“My life is so weird,” Scott says.

“Hey, it’s not that bad,” Stiles says and he can hear the plea for reassurance in his voice.

Scott looks at him critically. “I don’t know, are you going to make me do my homework and eat my vegetables?” There’s a small smile on his face.

“N-, well, I might. Seriously, dude, your grades are kind of, well, they could be better. And you’re a growing boy, a few vegetables could do you good.”

“Whatever.”

“So, this is okay? We’re okay?”

“Yeah, man, we’re okay. Stiles, don’t look so worried, we’ll figure it out. You’re already so much better than my last alpha.”

“Not that comforting, dude.”

Scott shrugs.

“Maybe you should go and try to catch the last half of practice.”

“Probably. Coach is going to yell.”

“Just tell the truth. You were worried and wanted to check up on me. Even Finstock was being nice to me today.”

“Okay, I’ll try it. Stiles, I think everything will be fine. You’re pretty good at taking care of people, you know.”

“Thanks, Scott.”

Scott waves and leaves.

“He’s right,” Derek says.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, Jackson does have nice hair.”

Stiles laughs.

“And you are good at taking care of people and we will figure it out.”

Stiles studies him, trying to gauge his sincerity. He nods. “Okay.”


	8. That Doesn’t Make Any Sense at All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Prompt](http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/3353.html?thread=2083609#t2083609): Gen or Derek/Stiles. Stiles is a werebunny.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration for Stiles’ bunny form [here](http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/04/05/smallest-bunny-ever_n_1406706.html?ref=green). Also, very cute art by [](http://ceares.livejournal.com/profile)[**ceares**](http://ceares.livejournal.com/) [here](http://s3.photobucket.com/albums/y100/ceares/?action=view&current=stilewerebunnykinkmemedrawing2resize.png) or [here](http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/3353.html?thread=2281497#t2281497) in a comment at the prompt.

Stiles wonders if Derek knows there are other werecreatures. If he does and didn’t tell anyone, well, they’re going to have words. Not that it would’ve made Stiles anymore cautious around the bunny that bit him. It was a _bunny_. He did wonder about rabies, but after the bite had healed so quickly, he kind of forgot about it. Until now.

He looks at himself in the mirror he had hopped (hopped!) over to. It’s possible that he’s the tiniest bunny ever. Why couldn’t it have been something more vicious, more threatening? Maybe an actual mountain lion, or a bear. Hell, even a freaking deer would be better. The only possible way he’ll be a threat in this form is if someone dies from the cute overload.

There’s a noise and Stiles flinches. He skitters (in a hopping sort of way) under his bed. Wow, he should clean under here more often – there are dust bun- balls, there are dust balls bigger than him. He finds a mug on its side (when had he brought a mug up here and how had it gotten under his bed?) and he clambers into it. He fits in with room to spare. He feels better surrounded by the ceramic.

There’s another noise. It’s actually a very soft scraping noise. Then there’s a small thump and someone’s in his room. Stiles trembles. His nose twitches and he smells… Derek? Weird, but he recognizes Derek’s scent.

“Stiles?” Derek’s voice asks, sounding really puzzled.

Derek can probably hear his little rabbit-y heartbeat, but Stiles is frozen in indecision, not sure whether to show himself. Derek is part wolf, after all. And Stiles is pretty sure they eat bunnies. There’s a slight shuffling sound and then Derek is looking under the bed. Stiles hesitantly climbs out of the mug and then slowly hops toward Derek, ready to scurry back to the mug if he makes any sudden moves. Derek just watches him. Stiles makes it to the edge of the bed and stops.

“You smell like Stiles,” Derek says quietly.

Stiles gives a sort of squeak.

Derek sighs. “I can’t believe I’m going to ask this, but is that you, Stiles?”

Stiles kind of clicks his teeth together and bobs his head.

“Only you.” Derek shakes his head.

Stiles grunts.

“It’s a good thing everyone else didn’t come.”

Stiles wonders why and gives what he hopes is a questioning squeak.

Derek stares at him. “Full moon. I don’t know how their wolves would react.”

Oh, full moon, duh. No wonder Stiles changed. And he was supposed to be with them tonight. That’s probably why Derek’s here and not in wolf form – to check up on him.

Derek puts a hand, palm facing up, down on the floor next to Stiles. Stiles doesn’t really know why, but he sniffs it. He looks up at Derek and then climbs on. And whoa, it’s so weird being lifted. Derek gets up and then sits on the bed, holding Stiles cupped in his hand. “At least you’re you. Or I’m talking to Stiles’ pet rabbit.”

Stiles nips at his hand in reproach.

Derek lifts him up so that Stiles is at his eye level. His eyes are glowing red. “Don’t bite. Biting is… significant to us,” he growls.

Stiles squeaks in apology. Then he figures he had better make sure he’s understood so he licks the place he nipped. Derek blinks at him, eyes back to their usual intense light green. They are almost mesmerizing up close like this.

“What am I going to do with you?”

Stiles wishes he could say something. He feels jittery and uneven. He twitches his nose and clicks his teeth.

Derek snorts. “I bet this is killing you, not being able to talk.”

Stiles huffs at him.

Derek sets him down on the bed. “You should get beneath the covers, the moon is going to set soon.”

Stiles looks up at Derek, confused.

“Up to you. It is your room. You don’t really have to worry about getting charged with indecent exposure here.”

Stiles darts for the covers when he realizes what Derek’s talking about. He should have remembered. He’s the one who has extra clothes in his car in case someone needs them (if there is an un-awkward way to hand clothes over to someone naked in the woods after a night of… wolfery, Stiles hasn’t found it yet). When Stiles gets settled, he feels warm and sleepy. Between one breath and the next, he falls asleep.

~~~

Derek stays until he’s sure that Stiles is okay. Stiles transforms very quickly. He doesn’t even wake up. Derek needs to get back to the rest of the pack. He needs to let everyone know about Stiles. He can just imagine one of the wolves running across Stiles and deciding he would make a nice snack (well, appetizer maybe, he’d be barely a mouthful). Derek shakes his head – Stiles is an itty-bitty werebunny. It’s so absurd, so out of left field, so… Stiles.

Derek wishes he had someone he could ask about this. There’s so much he doesn’t know. After the fire, he and Laura had been a pack of two. He wonders now, if Peter had stayed catatonic, if they ever would have expanded their pack. Maybe, but they had been so insular, looking only to themselves and each other, he’s not sure. He shakes the memory off, thinking about how to make sure that Stiles doesn’t get eaten. The thought of it makes him shudder. Of course, _he_ hadn’t been tempted at all. The scent of Stiles had been so present, eating the rabbit hadn’t even occurred to him. But then, for all that he should, Stiles has never felt like prey.

It’s been a long time since werewolves hunted down humans (other than the odd rogue werewolf) and yet, the instinct is still there, faint and easy to ignore, but there. Not for Stiles though, so contradictory in so many things. Like how Stiles, as hyperactive, attention deficient, and incessantly talkative as he is, is somehow a calming influence on the pack. He jokes with Scott, snipes with Jackson, snarks with Lydia, trades commiserating looks with Allison, and with Derek, well, he mostly just talks until Derek is sufficiently distracted. Stiles can defuse almost any tense situation. He makes the pack stronger, better. And, really, so does Allison. Stiles with his enthusiasm, Allison with her optimism, both with their expectations and the faith that the wolves will live up to them. It gives Derek hope that someday he’ll be able to let what might have been go completely and be happy with what is.

~~~

Allison practically jumps on Derek when he gets back. Trying to keep the peace with three newish werewolves during a full moon without Derek or Stiles was _hard_. Scott and Jackson had gone at each other three times (she hopes that table they’d smashed didn’t mean anything special to Derek). And asking Lydia to step in to break up their last flare up had been a mistake – Lydia is damn scary and the blood was kind of gross. Scott and Jackson are still healing and Allison is just glad no one lost an eye. She is not doing this again unless she has those tranquilizer darts Stiles has been working on for her small crossbow.

“Is Stiles okay?” Allison asks, hoping nothing is seriously wrong, but pretty sure something trivial wouldn’t keep him away.

Derek looks at her for a few seconds like he’s trying to decide something. They’re a little wary around each other – actually, _she_ is a little tentative around Derek and he’s probably just reacting to that. She can’t help but feel badly about her early interactions with him, even if he doesn’t seem to care. It’s unsettling to think that the worst things she’s ever done to anyone were so insignificant to him, but, really, given all that happened to him, it’s understandable. She and Stiles had yelled at each other – him at her for not telling anyone that Kate had Derek and, well, shooting Derek with arrows, her at him (and Scott) for accusing Derek of murder and mayhem (which had definitely been a factor in her decisions). They had both felt better afterward (Derek’s acknowledging grunts after being apologized to didn’t really do much to relieve guilt).

“He was a rabbit,” Derek finally says.

“Excuse me?”

“Apparently, there are other were-animals out there and Stiles had a run-in with one and now he’s a werebunny.”

“Were…bunny?”

“He was tiny and cute,” Derek says, wrinkling his nose.

Allison almost giggles at the way he says cute – as if the entire concept of cuteness offends him. “Are you, um, sure?”

“I watched him change back.”

“A bunny.”

“Yes.”

“Oh, Stiles.”

“Yes.”

“Oh, oh, no. A rabbit. Don’t you guys-“

“Eat rabbits? Sometimes. But not for now. Not until we’re sure it’s not Stiles… or anybody else.”

“Yeah, that would be bad. How do you tell were-animals apart from actual animals? I mean, Scott and Jackson and Lydia look kind of in-between, but you can look pretty much like a wolf and it sounds like Stiles looks like an actual rabbit.”

“He does, but he smells like Stiles. Where is everyone?”

“Um, Scott and Jackson got a little… energetic. They kind of destroyed some furniture. I sent them to the basement. Lydia’s watching them.”

Derek nods. “Sorry to leave you alone with them.”

“Oh, no, you had to find out about Stiles. But maybe we need a plan for next time… and maybe some cages.”

Derek looks considering. “I’ll think about it.”

“Stiles is okay, right?”

“Seems to be.”

“Right, sorry. You wouldn’t have come back if he wasn’t.”

Derek looks at her sharply. “What?”

Allison is a little taken aback. “You wouldn’t have left him alone if he wasn’t okay, right?”

Derek slowly nods. “Right.” And then he heads toward the basement.

Allison wonders why he reacted like that. Maybe he’s finally realizing that he cares. She smiles and follows him.

~~~

It takes some adjusting, being a wererabbit (or werebunny, as everyone else persists in calling him – he’d tried for werehare, but even Allison had made a face at that). But not as much adjusting as Stiles’d been worried about. As a matter of fact, other than the vulnerability of his bunny form and the changing with the full moon, it’s pretty awesome. Although not quite as much as a werewolf, he heals quickly and he can move pretty fast. He can also jump a lot higher and his senses are much sharper, especially his senses of smell and hearing. Weirdly, vegetables taste so much better now and he’s almost always chewing on something. On the down side, he finds himself craving attention and touch (oh my God, so much, like, back slaps, hugs, and really, cuddling of any kind, plus, well, the not so innocent kind of touching) all the time. On the up side, unlike the wolves, anger doesn’t set off any physical changes in Stiles.

It isn’t until a fanatical rogue hunter, who believes it’s his calling to cleanse the Earth of werewolves and all who associate with them, is holding a knife to his eye (Jesus, his _eye_ ) that he finds out something other than the moon can trigger a transformation. And it’s fast, no nose twitching or getting furry, just bam – bunny. The hunter guy drops him, startled. And, ow, it’s a long way down. Derek lunges at the hunter and then Stiles loses track of what’s happening because he’s in wolf Jackson’s mouth (seriously, what the hell?). A minute later, he’s being deposited on the ground and he and Jackson just stare at each other, Stiles all ruffled and banged up. They’re pretty much nose to nose, so Stiles gives Jackson’s nose a big, obnoxious lick, hoping it adequately conveys thanks-for-getting-me-out-of-there-but-don’t-ever-put-me-in-your-mouth-again. Jackson cringes back and sneezes three times, which is sort of satisfying.

After the hunter is subdued, all the werewolves change back and get dressed, but Stiles stays a bunny. They all stare at him, which makes him twitchy, so he slowly and a little painfully hops over to hide behind Derek’s shoe. Derek is always careful of him when he’s a bunny and doesn’t just pick him up (Stiles _hates_ being picked up). Derek crouches and offers a hand for Stiles to climb onto. Stiles gets on gingerly.

“You’re hurt,” Derek says, his eyes flashing red.

Stiles grinds his teeth loudly. He really wishes he could talk because Derek’s fangs just came out and he’s looking over to where the unconscious and tied up hunter is. Stiles gives a little grunt and burrows his face into Derek’s hand – he just wants to get out of here.

“Allison, are your parents home?” Derek asks.

“They should be,” Allison says.

“Will they know what to do with this guy if we hand him over?”

“Probably. If not, I’ll make sure they figure something out,” Allison says, a hint of steel creeping into her voice.

“Good. Scott, Jackson, Lydia?”

“We’ll make sure he gets there,” Lydia says with a sharp smile.

“In one piece.”

“Fine, in one piece. No promises on the conditions of that piece,” Lydia says, eyes gleaming.

“We’ll get him there,” Scott says. “Just make sure Stiles is okay.”

Derek nods and Allison, Lydia, Scott, and Jackson take the hunter and head toward Jackson’s car. Derek starts walking, carrying Stiles. He takes Stiles back to his place. Derek watches over him, even changing back into a wolf and curling up around him. When Stiles changes back, he’s a little bruised, but not that bad. Stiles is pretty sure he heals faster in bunny form.

“So, uh, thanks for, you know, taking care of me,” Stiles says.

Derek nods.

“So, I guess abject terror can make me change. And possibly pain.”

“Seems that way.”

“I should go.”

“Okay.”

“Wow, good talk.” Stiles gets ready to go.

Just as Stiles is walking out the door, Derek says, “Stiles.”

Stiles stops and looks back at Derek. “What?”

“I hope you only have to change during the full moon.”

Stiles very firmly tells himself not to say aloud the “Aww,” echoing through his head. “I, um, thanks. Bye.”

“Bye.”

Stiles leaves and drives home with a fond smile on his face. As it happens, for the next couple of months, Stiles doesn’t change except during the full moon. But he comes very, very close one day when he’s in his Jeep with Derek after Derek’s been in the woods doing wolf-y things. Stiles is talking to distract himself from the fact that Derek’s putting on some of the spare clothing Stiles has and he’s also talking to distract Derek from the fact that he’s talking to distract himself. Stiles is really good at talking as distraction. So good, neither of them notice his father until he’s tapping on the window. It’s only Derek’s hand on his shoulder that keeps Stiles from bunny-ing out right there and then. He takes a deep breath and quickly glances at Derek, who, thank God, is completely dressed. Except Stiles has no idea when his dad got there.

Stiles rolls down his window and goes for the joke, “Hello, Officer, is there a problem?”

His dad looks unimpressed. He points at Derek and says, “You and I are going to go back to my squad car and talk.” Then he points at Stiles. “And you are going to sit here until I finish with him and then we are going to have a talk.”

Derek gets out of the Jeep and walks back with his dad to his car. Stiles watches in the rearview mirror as they get in the car and talk. And talk. And talk. Jeez, what on Earth could they be talking about that would take this long? What could make _Derek_ talk this long? Eventually, Stiles gets bored watching – attention deficit, hello – and starts playing with the radio. He’s singing along to a Kelly Clarkson song that’s really catchy even though he’s never broken up with anyone when Derek appears back in the car. Dammit, you’d think he’d be harder to sneak up on now.

“Your dad wants to talk to you. He thinks we’re dating,” Derek says.

“Of course my dad wants- Wait, what? He thinks we’re what?”

“Dating. It just started. But you realized you liked me a few months ago.”

“Well, yeah, but did you have to tell _him_ that?” 

Derek’s eyes go big and he looks really surprised.

“Oh my God, you didn’t know. And, oh my God, I just told you. But then why did you tell my dad that?”

“He mentioned that you’ve been acting ‘squirrelly’ the last few months and I figured you didn’t want him to know about the werebunny thing.”

“Oh.”

“You’d better get back there.”

“Yeah, but um, I, about liking you, I-“

“Stiles, do you want to get dinner on Friday? About seven?”

“What? Oh, as cover, so that it actually looks like we’re dating.”

“Or we could actually date.”

“Seriously?” Stiles asks, his voice breaking a little. “Like, that would be something that you would want? To actually date me?” And he suddenly feels more vulnerable than he ever has as a bunny.

“Yes.”

And it’s one word, one tiny, single syllable word. But it has a weight to it, a solidness. Derek means it. “Seven-thirty would be better and someplace that serves good salads,” Stiles says.

“Okay.”

And Stiles can’t stop smiling, even as he gets out of the Jeep and goes back to talk to his dad.


	9. I Don’t Want to Be Robin All the Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Prompt](http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/3353.html?thread=2187801#t2187801): Derek/Stiles 'Derek, Timmy's stuck in the well again!' Stiles always has trouble keeping up with the rest of the pack--just because he's the clumsy, happy chatterbox we all know and love, so somehow or another he always end up stuck somewhere-- up in trees, rafters, stuck between buildings, under the kitchen sink, stuck in the doggy door...anywhere really...and Derek's always got to double back and rescue him. Maybe 5 times Stiles was stuck and one time he wasn't? I'm just really in the mood for something light and funny, author!anons~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (AKA Five Times Stiles Got Stuck and Derek Got Him Out and One Time Stiles Totally Rocked at the Dashing Rescuer Thing)

1\. It’s not Stiles’ fault, not really. Derek had told him to leave a scent trail, but make it a challenge. So, after zig-zagging through the woods and finding these two trees with their tops close together, he’d gotten an idea – climbing up one tree, jumping to the other and climbing down. Unfortunately, after jumping, he winds up sort of upside down, his jeans caught on something. Derek doesn’t say a word as he fetches Stiles, which somehow makes it worse.

2\. Stiles is good at plumbing, he is. But he’s pretty sure that Derek’s house is actually out to get him. He’d almost gotten a concussion while repairing the shower, the washing machine was possessed, and now the kitchen sink has lured him in so it could ensnare him. Okay, maybe not, but it was ridiculously hard to get under and get access to the right pipe and now that it’s fixed, he can’t seem to contort himself to get out again. Then there’s a tugging on his legs and then a jerk and he’s free (even if he’s a little scraped up – maybe the house just needs a little sacrificial blood every now and again). Derek drops his ankles and stands over him. He’s really good at looming (he’s got maybe an inch on Stiles, but from this position he looks about nine feet tall). Stiles opens his mouth to explain and Derek just stares at him. Stiles closes his mouth and shrugs a little helplessly. Derek shakes his head and walks out.

3\. This one is Scott’s fault. It’s his plan. And it’s a stupid one. But, really, Stiles is partially to blame – for _listening_ to him. God, what was he thinking? To be fair, it works – none of the hunters catch him sitting up in the rafters and he does hear a couple of sort of helpful things. The thing is, he _almost_ gets seen and from then on his mind spins out worst-case scenarios for what might happen if he does get caught, most of them ending in all-out war between the pack and the hunters. Also, about halfway through, it occurs to him he probably could have called Scott’s phone and then put his phone in a strategic location and that way, they could hear the conversation from a safe distance or, hell, just have recorded it somehow. So the hunters don’t catch him, but his own fear does. Spiders. He knows it’s an irrational fear (well, honestly, he’s not sure it’s all that irrational, there are plenty of poisonous spiders out there). But with a big spider right there, inches from him (staring at him with it’s many beady little eyes), he can’t move. He doesn’t know when Derek gets there, but all of a sudden he is, and he’s just behind Stiles. He puts a hand over Stiles’ eyes and it helps, Stiles can move again. He guides Stiles down and then he takes him home. He doesn’t seem angry and he doesn’t make fun. Stiles is pathetically grateful.

4\. Who even builds buildings less than a foot apart? Seriously, aren’t there, like, codes or zoning laws, something? He’s not that far from the end of the alley (can it be called that, even?), but he’s wedged in pretty tight. And how did that happen? He was fine most of the way through and then, what? Did the buildings get less square? He struggles for a few moments, but can’t go forward or back, so he waits, sure that Derek will soon show up. Derek does and Stiles sighs. He always seems to look like such an idiot in front of Derek. This time, though, Derek does seem amused. There’s even almost a smile on his face. Stiles opens his mouth to tell him not to laugh, but then closes it again because he figures he deserves it and it’s kind of nice to see Derek like this. Then Derek reaches in and grabs ahold of Stiles and _yanks_. Stiles lets out a strangled yelp as he pops free.

5\. It’s inevitable, really. He doesn’t know why it’s him and not Allison. Sure, he’s not all built, like some people, but she’s thinner than him, right? He doesn’t actually know why he’s stuck. How can it be possible that the doggy door is smaller on the way out than it was on the way in? This sucks. So hard. There has to have been a better way to get a look at this Mrs. Schmidt’s family journals. Maybe they could have just asked, made up a school project or something. He doesn’t even know if the stuff that they were looking for is in the pictures he’d taken of the pages because it was all in German. He tries again to get loose. At this point, he doesn’t know which is worse, Mrs. Schmidt coming home and finding him stuck in the door or Derek once again rescuing him. He’s going to get a complex. He rests his forehead on the porch for a minute and when he lifts his head again, Derek’s there, looking down at him. And Stiles is blushing. Derek crouches in front of him and studies the door. He grasps Stiles’ shoulders and twists a little and Stiles comes free. Then he’s through the doggy door and he stays there on all fours on the porch, not wanting to get up and look Derek in the eye. But Derek has other plans, lifting him up and setting him on his feet. He finally looks at Derek and, wow, Derek is smiling an actual smile. It’s even sort of fond. Which is kind of awesome. Maybe Stiles’ penchant for getting stuck isn’t so bad.

+1. Stiles goes out to Derek’s house to bother him, or, no, wait, he has legitimate reasons for being there, like, questions and stuff. Maybe he’s gotten spoiled, but when Derek doesn’t show up a few minutes after Stiles does (Stiles has no idea how he does that) and his car is right there, Stiles gets concerned, no, not _concerned_ , worried, no, anxious, yeah, that sounds right. He starts searching in widening circles out from the house (okay, it could be considered a spiral, but he has bad associations with spirals, so it’s circles). 

Stiles is astounded when he finds Derek – first, that he found him at all, but mostly because he’s down a well. Like, an actual, honest-to-God well. He wonders for a minute if this is a joke because it almost has to be. Why else would Derek be down a well? But maybe there’s a weird-ass werewolf explanation for it. “Derek?”

“…Stiles?” Derek calls back after a moment, his voice sounding a little weak.

“Are you okay?”

“No. There’s some plants up there, tall with pink flowers, don’t touch them.”

Stiles looks around and finds several, not far from the well. “Are they like wolf’s bane? Do they do something to you? What are they?”

“Yes. They’re lupines.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No.”

“Okay, seriously, someone had no imagination when naming these plants. Wait, they kind of look familiar. Aren’t these all over the place?”

“There are lots of different species and we tend to avoid them because they smell awful to us, but those ones, they’re different – I’ve never seen them before, never been affected like this before.”

“Affected how?”

“Weak, dizzy.”

“Oh, oh, um, just hold on, I’ll be back,” Stiles says and runs to his Jeep. As he’s getting a rope out of the back, he thinks it’s almost funny what he now considers necessary equipment to carry. If he had to, he could explain everything away as emergency preparedness (okay, maybe he’d have a hard time explaining the shackles). He runs back to the well. He lowers the rope down and has Derek tie it around himself and then he runs the rope around a sturdy nearby tree and pulls Derek up. Then he supports (there’s a little dragging, too) Derek away from the well and the plants. When Derek starts to perk up (finally), Stiles can’t help himself and blurts out, “You have no idea how many Lassie jokes I’ve been holding in.”

Derek just gives him a half-hearted glare.

But Stiles, coming down off an adrenaline rush, can’t stop talking. “So many, so, so many. Like, a well, man, that is just gold. And you’re okay now, right? Like, nothing’s broken or anything?”

“Not anymore.”

And the house is just up ahead. “Oh, okay, that’s good then. I mean, not that you were hurt, but that you’re okay now. And _I_ was the one to rescue _you_. You know, when the handsome prince rescues the dams- the person who needs rescuing, he usually gets a reward,” Stiles rambles.

Derek stops walking, bringing Stiles to a halt with him, and looks at Stiles with interest. “Like what?”

Unbidden, Stiles mind throws out, _‘A kiss.’_ And he stutters out, “Uh, I, well, um-“

But it’s like Derek heard his thought and he leans in and kisses Stiles. And, wow, it’s like Stiles has been waiting for this, like it’s the first breath of air after being underwater too long. And then it’s over and Derek is looking at him like he’s waiting for Stiles to say something, but Stiles doesn’t have a clue what to say. Derek disentangles himself from Stiles and starts walking towards his house.

“Wait!” Stiles shouts after him.

Derek turns back.

Stiles licks his lips. “I think, um, don’t I owe you a few of those?”

“You don’t owe me anything.”

“What if I want to?”

Derek walks back to him and steps right into his space. “Well, that’s different.”

“Oh. Good.” Stiles swallows and leans in and this kiss is better - deeper, more intense, but sweeter, somehow.

Derek pulls back after a few minutes and asks, “Does this mean I have to keep rescuing you?”

“Well, if you like this, it’s kind of in your best interest. But I promise, I’ll rescue you right back.”

“Deal,” Derek says and leans back in for another kiss.


	10. It Keeps Me Awake at Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Prompt](http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/3353.html?thread=2031641#t2031641): Derek/Stiles. Derek keeps having dreams about Stiles; at first they're just sort of sweet and comforting (which still unnerves Derek, because why the hell should be be feeling comforted by STILES), but then they end up changing from sweet, to intimate, to straight up pornagraphic. Eventually the dreams start to bleed into the daytime, and it's getting harder and harder for Derek not to try and make them real. (please no noncon)

Derek is driving, it’s sunny and the air is warm. The scenery is flying by and it’s almost as good as running when he’s a wolf. A hand squeezes his shoulder and he looks over to the passenger seat and Stiles smiles brightly at him. Stiles opens his mouth and Derek wakes up. He wipes a hand over his face and vaguely wonders about the dream as the last vestiges of it fade from his mind. He shakes his head and gets up out of bed.

~~~

Stiles has his arms around Derek and is rubbing his hands soothingly up and Derek’s back. Derek can’t remember the last time he was held like this. And he should push Stiles back, push him away. Instead Derek’s arms slowly lift from his sides and wrap around Stiles, his hands gripping the fabric of Stiles’ shirt so he won’t (can’t) slip away. Derek’s chest feels a little tight and his breathing is a little shaky. Stiles breathes softly into his neck and says something that Derek can’t quite make out. There’s a loud thump and Derek blinks awake. He stares into the darkness, frowning. There’s another thump and he listens and identifies the sound - the wind has kicked up and that shutter he’d meant to fix is banging against the wall. He gets up to go fix it, leaving the dream behind.

~~~

The sofa bounces a little as Stiles sits down right next to Derek. His arm is warm against Derek’s through the fabric of his shirt. Derek finds himself leaning into Stiles. Stiles gets his arm out from between them and throws it over Derek’s shoulder.

“Is this your favorite?” Stiles asks.

Derek looks up at the television he didn’t even realize was on. “Yes.”

“Good to know.”

“Why?”

Stiles doesn’t get a chance to answer as Derek wakes up. He sits up and runs his hands through his hair, wondering why he’s dreaming of Stiles.

~~~

It keeps happening, night after night. They’re fairly innocuous, just Stiles, there in his space, being friendly, being happy, being _comforting_. It’s strange and it’s starting to affect his waking life. He watches Stiles more and he doesn’t get as aggressive with him. He knows Stiles has noticed, although he hasn’t said anything. And then Derek somehow finds himself in this conversation:

“What’s your favorite movie?”

Stiles stares at him open-mouthed. “What?”

“Your favorite movie. What is it?” Derek sort of growls. And he should stop, let it go, leave, even. But it’s stupidly important to him.

“I don’t know. I have a bunch, I guess. Batman Begins. Iron Man. Terminator 2. Star Wars. Toy Story.”

“Toy Story?”

“Yes, Toy Story. It’s a good movie.”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t.”

“Whatever. You asked.”

“I did. I wasn’t making- I was just surprised. It doesn’t seem to fit with the others.”

“I don’t know about that.”

Derek looks at him in confusion.

“I know, hero’s journey and all, but they don’t get there without help.”

“Friends are important,” says as he gets it.

“Exactly.”

“Okay.”

“What’s your favorite movie?” Stiles asks curiously.

And Derek really should have anticipated that. “X-Men,” he says reluctantly

Stiles huffs out a laugh, which he quickly stifles. “Sorry. Just-“

“Yeah.”

“Just, a loner. With claws. Named Wolverine. Who hates a guy named Scott,” Stiles says in a strangled voice.

“You can laugh.”

“No, sorry, just, wow. Interesting.”

Derek leaves soon after that.

~~~

Stiles is scritching a hand through Derek’s hair, like a pet. It feels good, but there’s something odd about it. The next few dreams – Stiles rubbings his shoulders, Stiles cleaning him up after a fight, Stiles lying on the ground right next to him as they look up at the sky – are like that, off, texturally different from the dreams that came before. Derek can’t put his finger on why, though.

~~~

Stiles is kneeling in front of where Derek is sitting, almost between Derek’s spread knees. Stiles puts a hand on Derek’s knees, his thumb resting on the inner seam of Derek’s jeans, and starts to move it up along his thigh. Derek reaches out and puts a hand on Stiles’ wrist, not pushing him away, just resting it there. Stiles looks up, meeting Derek’s gaze, and there’s a heat flaring in his eyes. Derek feels a responding heat well up in him and he wakes up abruptly, pulse pounding. _Where did that come from? Stiles isn’t- He doesn’t- Damn._

Derek tries to push the memory of the dream out of his head, but that heat stays with him. It suddenly occurs to him to wonder if this has anything to do with Peter - after Derek first became Alpha, there had been a few flashes of memory and some surreal dreams (including one with Scott’s mother that he tries very hard not to think about). The possibility nags at him all day. Stiles had told him about what had happened with Peter, but what if he’d left something out?

~~~

Derek waits for Stiles in his room. The sheriff won’t be home for a while and Stiles is thumping around downstairs. Finally, Stiles comes upstairs. He bursts into his room and then flails a little when he sees Derek. Then Stiles rolls his eyes, whether at Derek or himself, Derek can’t tell.

“Is there, like, some werewolf thing where you can’t cross a door entrance or something – you know, like vampires have to be invited?” Stiles asks.

Truthfully, Derek hadn’t even thought about using the door. He should really stop behaving like a wanted man. “Vampires don’t exist. And no. Although, doorways do have significance in lore.”

“Really?” Stiles asks, looking intrigued.

“You can look it up later.”

“Fine. So, why are you here?”

“I needed to ask you something.”

“I have a phone. Phones are devices that people use to communicate when-“

“Stiles.”

“Okay, so you didn’t want to use a phone. Why not? Oh wait, you wanted to be able to tell if I was lying, right? And you can’t do that over the phone.”

“I can tell a lot of things over the phone,” Derek says mildly. And he can, especially with a good connection.

Stiles looks curious and opens his mouth for what is surely going to be a barrage of questions, but Derek speaks first, “I wanted to ask you about Peter.”

“Ask me what about Peter? I told you everything that happened.”

“And you didn’t leave anything out?”

“Like what?”

“He didn’t… try anything?” Derek asks hesitantly, trying to convey by tone what he means, not wanting to say it plainly. It feels so wrong to even allude it.

“Try any- Oh, oh, you want to know if he, like, molested me. No.”

Derek narrows his eyes at Stiles. There’s something off about his manner, not a hint of shock or surprise. Derek studies him.

After a minute, Stiles blurts out, “What? I’m not lying. He didn’t. He didn’t have the time.”

“What does that mean?”

“He had other stuff to do – you know, you were there.”

“And if he had had the time?”

“I don’t know. He was being all Dracula-like, all creepy-seductive. I don’t know.”

Well, that’s an answer. Maybe not the one Derek was hoping for. Actually, Derek can’t figure out what he’d been hoping for.

“Is this why you’ve been all weird? Have you been thinking about this for a while?” Stiles asks.

“What? No, I, no, not really. I’ve been having odd dreams,” Derek says distractedly.

“Dreams? Like what?”

Derek focuses back on Stiles. “Not important. I’ll go.”

“Sure, no problem. It’s been fun, we should do this again some time.”

Derek snorts and heads out the window. As he drops to the ground, he hears Stiles say exasperatedly, “Freaking werewolves.”

~~~

Stiles is kneeling in front of him again, but this time, Derek’s standing and only wearing jeans. Stiles looks up at him from under his lashes, his expression mischievous. Then he looks down. He reaches out and runs his fingers lightly down Derek’s abs. He looks up at Derek again, that heat from the last time in his eyes and there’s something… predatory about him. Derek’s wolf likes it, wants to respond to it. Stiles runs his fingers back up and then scratches his nails down Derek’s abs. Derek’s eyes flash and his teeth itch, his wolf surging underneath his skin. Stiles goes for the button at his waistband and Derek wakes up. He’s hard and his claws are ready to come out. He doesn’t think these dreams have much to do with Peter at all.

~~~

The dreams escalate. Derek has thoughts he really shouldn’t be having about a sixteen year old. Even if his subconscious doesn’t care about Stiles’ age. He tries not to pay any more attention to Stiles than he usually does, but he fails. His awareness of Stiles is so heightened, he sometimes has a hard time focusing on anything else. He also tries not to wonder if Stiles would be as aggressive as he is in the dreams. And, again, he fails. He thinks maybe not at first, but maybe as Stiles got more comfortable, maybe then. Then again, most of the time, Stiles’ aggression has been reactive. So, maybe if Derek pushed, Stiles would push back. Derek wonders if Stiles likes to lick and bite like he does in the dreams, if he would ever finger himself open as Derek watched, which he needs to stop thinking about, _right now_.

Being near Stiles makes it worse. Most of the time, Stiles’ scent has some arousal in it. Derek tells himself that it’s completely normal for a teenager. He remembers how easily a stray thought, scent, sound, or sight could trigger it back then, how sometimes there didn’t even seem to be any sort of trigger. But, a tiny part of Derek thinks that it could be for him. Wants it to be for him. _Needs_ it to be for him. Which, even if it is, doesn’t mean anything. You can be aroused without wanting to be.

Derek has no clue how to deal with any of this. And the dreams won’t stop. He ends up trying an animal tranquilizer to get a night without dreams. It works, but he’s groggy and sluggish for almost the whole next day – not a good thing for an alpha. He begins to be seriously worried about what will happen on the full moon. He may have to lock himself up or even get Stiles to take a trip out of town.

~~~

Stiles has Derek tied to the bed, teasing him - bringing him close to the edge and then backing off. It goes on and on and Derek is very frustrated, but he doesn’t break free. This is Stiles’ game and he’ll play it. Derek gets so worked up that all Stiles has to do is call his name and Derek’s coming. Derek blinks awake, immediately becoming aware of two things: that he’d really come in his sleep and that Stiles is actually at the house, downstairs. Derek does a hasty clean up, grabs some clothes, and quickly dresses. 

Derek steps out onto the porch where Stiles is waiting. “What do you want?” he asks abruptly, feeling self-conscious.

“Hi, hello, how are you? I’m good. I-“

“Stiles.”

“I know you actually were raised by wolves, but I’m pretty sure you know something about human interaction and politeness and courtesy.”

Derek stares at him and Stiles just stands there. Derek sighs and says, “Hello, Stiles.”

“Hi, Derek.”

“Is there something I can do for you?”

“See, isn’t that much better, much nicer-“

Derek growls.

“Yeah, okay, I’m kind of stalling. I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“What?”

“You’ve been having dreams about me.”

Derek’s mind goes completely blank.

After a minute, Stiles seems to give up waiting for a response. “Come on, it wasn’t hard to figure out. You’ve been really weird, but, like, only around me and you said you’d been having dreams. So, I just wanted to say that whatever I did in your dreams, it wasn’t actually me and you can’t hold me responsible. It’s your psyche. So, if I’m messing up your pack in the dreams, that’s on-“

Derek interrupts with, “Our pack.”

“-you. What?”

However little Derek wants to prolong this conversation, this is important. “Our pack. You’re a part of it.”

“I, um, oh. Yeah, okay.” Stiles flushes a little and has a small, pleased smile on his face. Then he refocuses. “But like I was saying, whatever weird thing is going on in your dreams and whatever Peter has to do-“ Stiles stops and blinks at him. “You asked if Peter- Why would you ask that unless- Oh my God, you’re having _sex_ dreams about me.”

For a split second Derek thinks about denying it, but Stiles probably wouldn’t believe him. “Yes.”

“Really, like, really? About me? Doing what? Wait, don’t tell me. Okay, wow, this so much more awkward and uncomfortable than I had imagined this conversation would be.”

“Are we done?” Derek finds himself hoping Stiles is too embarrassed to keep going.

“No. This isn’t bad or anything. I kind of like- Wait, are the dreams annoying you or do you want what’s in them to actually-“

“Yes, the dreams are annoying.”

“Oh. Well, I’ll, um, I guess I’ll go. I’ll see if I can look up anything about stopping or changing your dreams and let you know.” There’s a defeated slump to Stiles’ shoulders as he walks down the stairs.

Derek calls out, “Stiles,” wanting to kick himself for doing it, but unable to let Stiles go like that.

Stiles turns.

“They aren’t _only_ annoying.”

Stiles makes his way back over to Derek. “And that means what, exactly?”

“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” Derek says, not sure if he’s talking more to Stiles or himself.

“God, you are like the King of Mixed Signals. What do you _want_? Do you want me?”

“It’s not- Stiles you’re _sixteen_.”

“Yes, you have correctly identified my chronological age, congratulations.”

Derek sighs. “Stiles.”

“No. No! I’m old enough to have helped you take down an alpha. I’m apparently old enough to _saw_ your arm off! I should have some freaking, I don’t know, autonomy. It should be _my_ choice – right or wrong. I mean, it’s your choice if _you_ want it, but it should be up to me and only me to decide if I want it or if I’m ready for it.”

“I don’t want to take advantage. I don’t want-“ Derek breaks off, looking away, unable to finish.

“To be like Kate?”

Derek looks at Stiles in surprise.

“Scott and Allison told me some things. And you aren’t. Like her. And you never will be. Yeah, you’ve threatened me and even bounced my head off my steering wheel, but every time there’s been real danger, you’ve tried to protect me and everyone else from it. For all that she wanted to rid the world of ‘monsters’, you have a lot more humanity than she does.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“I do. So, okay, now I’m going to say something and then ask you a question and if you say no, um, well, I will just pretend this conversation never happened. Okay, so, I, I want this. You and me. Do you want it?”

Derek should say no and hope that Stiles finds someone his own age. Instead he says, “Yes.”

“Oh my God, I totally thought you were going to say no, which would have sucked and I never would have been able to look you in the eye again. Well, not never, I’m actually really bad at being embarrassed for very long, but I-“

“Stiles.”

“Yeah, okay, I’ll stop. I, uh-“ And Stiles pushes forward into a kiss.

Derek freezes for a second in shock, but then starts participating, letting Stiles take it where he will. It’s a little rough and sloppy, which his wolf approves of. After a few long moments, Stiles pulls back and smiles. “So, about these dreams?”

“Yeah?”

“If you wanted, maybe you could describe them to me.”

“You would like that?” Derek asks, voice going a little deeper.

“I, yeah, I think, yeah. But also, maybe we could, um, recreate some of them, if you want.”

“I want,” Derek says and wonders if Stiles hears the wolf in his voice.

“Me too,” Stiles says with a familiar sort of heat in his eyes.


	11. Does that Go for All Werewolves or Just a Personal Preference?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Prompt](http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/3353.html?thread=2140953#t2140953): Derek/Stiles kidnapped. Stiles is kidnapped by someone; maybe someone trying to get to his dad, trying to get to Derek and the pack by kidnapping what they think is the weakest member, or snatched up as a hostage in the course of some other crime, whatever floats your boat. Would love to see Stiles trying to escape from his end, using all of his awesome Stiles resourcefulness, and Derek and the pack trying to track him down and stage a rescue. Whether Derek and Stiles are already together or not is up to author.

Stiles still isn’t sure if he’s attractive to gay guys, but, apparently, he’s attractive to alphas (except for Derek, who really only seems to tolerate him). This is the third time in five months one of them has been all creepy-ass, up in his space, offering the bite (Derek does the up-in-his-space thing, but it’s more intimidating than creepy). Maybe it’s his scent, he should ask. And, he should ask about the offering – if it means something different if a werewolf offers, rather than just biting, oh, and if asking for the bite makes anything different. He’s guessing yes just from the big deal they make about it. 

Anyway, this alpha seems awfully amused by Stiles’ sarcasm. Which, awesome, he doesn’t want to eat Stiles, but he did kind of have him kidnapped and brought to this abandoned place by his pack (or, as Stiles has been calling them, his minions). They can’t be that far from town, or at least the trip in the trunk hadn’t seemed all that long. He hopes they aren’t anyway and he hopes that Derek checks his voicemail sooner rather than later (he would have called Scott, but his hands had been tied at that point and it was dark in the trunk and, really, what kind of kidnappers don’t check for a cell phone – not the sharpest tools in the shed, although they did disable the trunk release, so maybe they aren’t that stupid). And they’re being weirdly courteous for kidnappers, cutting his hands loose, making sure he isn’t hurt.

“Hey, so, what is that? With you guys offering the bite?”

“You’ve been offered the bite before?” The Alpha’s eyes are bright and intrigued.

“Yes.”

“But not from your alpha?”

Stiles doesn’t really want to give away any pack secrets, but he’s trying to distract, stall, and maybe even build some camaraderie. “No.”

“Very interesting.”

“So, hey, what’s your name?”

“Jerry.”

“Seriously?”

“You think there’s something wrong with my name?” Jerry says in the weird caressing tone he’s been using for most of their conversation.

“No, not wrong. Just, well, Jerry just seems more like, you know, friendly next-door neighbor guy, not badass in-charge wolf man.”

One of the guys who took Stiles, a weedy-looking dude, who has been watching and listening to them, growls at Stiles.

“Whatever, that wasn’t like an insult, just an observation.”

“It’s okay. My parents did actually name me after a neighbor,” Jerry says, looking highly entertained. “What, in your opinion, _Stiles_ , constitutes a good name?”

“Hey, I’m a human teenager and Stiles is a great nickname, quirky and interesting, and so much better than my actual name. And, I don’t know, Lobo, no, I got it, _Wolfgang_.”

Jerry laughs. “Are you sure you won’t reconsider? You would make an excellent addition to my pack. You would be powerful, you would be remarkable.”

“Hey, I’m awesome just the way I am.”

“I will admit there’s a certain charm to you like this.” Jerry eyes him admiringly.

Stiles is a little nervous about the near possessiveness that’s in Jerry’s tone. “Well, don’t go getting any ideas, I have a pack.”

“Yes, but do they appreciate you? Do they treat you like they should?”

“I- You know what? It doesn’t matter, they’re my pack.”

“Loyalty. Such a lovely quality.”

“Yeah, um, so you kidnapped me. I’m guessing you had a reason for that.”

“Yes. I wanted to talk to Hale.”

“No, if you’d just wanted to talk, you wouldn’t have taken one of his pack. This kind of thing is sort of bound to piss him off. You want something.”

“You’re right. I want some information, information that is very important to me. I needed to ensure his cooperation. You are a bargaining chip.”

“What information?” Because, seriously, if it’s something Stiles knows and he can resolve this without threats or bloodshed, then he’s going to do it (as long as the information won’t get anyone hurt who doesn’t deserve it).

“Another pack came through here several weeks ago,” Jerry says.

“Yeah, I remember.” That alpha had freaked Stiles out almost as much as Peter, even though she hadn’t seemed to want to hurt anyone. There had just been something about her that had made him want to back away slowly (he hadn’t, but only because he’d thought she might interpret it as a chase).

Jerry studies him. “Did Regine also offer you the bite?”

Stiles scratches his head and looks away.

“Well, two alphas offering the bite,” Jerry says with a smile and pauses, tilting his head like he’s listening to something, “no, three? My goodness, aren’t you a deep one?”

Stiles wonders what gave him away, probably his heartbeat, dammit. “I told you I’m awesome. So, what about this other pack?”

The smile drops from Jerry’s face and his dark eyes go cold and flinty. “Regine has my son.”

Stiles is surprised by that, but he doesn’t really know why. He thinks about that pack and then asks, “Is his name Charley?”

“You saw him?”

“You don’t want to, like, hurt him or anything?”

Jerry looks offended by that, which is reassuring. “No, I don’t want to hurt him, I want him back.”

“Sorry, some weird stuff has gone on with the, um, you know what, not important, sorry. But, what if he doesn’t want to come back?”

Jerry looks at him with narrowed eyes and then seems to decide something, “If he doesn’t want to come back and he hasn’t been… unduly influenced, he can do whatever he likes.”

“That seems fair. You want to know about the pack?”

“I want to know anything that could lead me to them. I want to know if he’s okay.”

“Well, he was kind of on edge, a little, I don’t know, shaky, I guess, but he seemed physically fine.”

Jerry looks a little relieved. “Thank you.”

Stiles imagines if it was him out there and his dad looking for him and he feels sympathy well up. “They’ve settled near Mt. Shasta for the last few days, I don’t think they’ve moved on yet.”

“And how do you know that?”

“My dad has a network of local law enforcement who report anything unusual. There are a few signs that I’ve learned have to do with werewolves, where they like to settle, what game they like, that kind of thing. When Regine’s pack moved on, I thought it might be a good idea to keep track, you know, have some warning if they decided to come back might be good.”

“That’s very helpful. And you’re sure it’s them?”

Stiles is _good_ at this kind of research and analysis. “Yes. And if they’ve moved on from there, one of them mentioned Mayfield Lake – you could probably get there ahead of them and wait.” 

“It appears I don’t have to talk to Hale after all.”

“If I find out you’re lying, I’ll give your description to every hunter I can find and tell them you like to take human children.”

Jerry smiles.

“Hey, that was a real threat.”

“Oh, I know, it’s just when one meets a worthy opponent, it’s appropriate to be gratified.”

“Huh.”

“I think that we’ll be leaving, but I’ll be back in, say, six months.”

“What for?” Stiles had thought they were done and he could maybe get back before Derek had listened to his message.

“Why, to make another offer. Just think about it. And you should tell Hale.”

One of Jerry’s pack comes in and says something in a low voice to Jerry. Jerry looks at Stiles. “Our time is up, it appears your pack is on it’s way, which is odd since we hadn’t contacted them. Would you know anything about that?”

Stiles shrugs and smiles.

“I see. Clever boy. Thank you, Stiles. Until we meet again.” And with that, Jerry takes his pack and clears out, leaving Stiles behind in the abandoned house.

~~~

“Hey, so, um, Derek, it’s Stiles and there’s another pack in town. And they kind of kidnapped me. From the school parking lot. Maybe you can pick up the scent there? A dark sedan, a tall guy and a short, weedy-looking guy. I’m in the trunk. God, I hope you-“ and Stiles voice cuts off there.

Derek, disbelieving, listens to the message again. And then again. His phone creaks as he grasps it too tightly. He eases his grip, trying to control the anger that makes him want to throw the damn thing against a wall. Stiles seems to be a magnet for these kind of things. He should just offer him the bite, but it might make him even more of a target and, honestly, Derek isn’t sure that he’d say yes (and maybe a tiny part of him wants Stiles to ask). And the thing is, Stiles is always going to make an attractive target - as the sheriff’s son and as part of the pack, he makes for a valuable hostage, and given that he’s quick-witted, capable, and curious, he usually knows what’s going on and how to get things done, so he can be very useful. Of course, that’s not even accounting for the attachment that Derek feels toward Stiles, above and beyond his attachment to him as pack, and what he would do to get Stiles back or keep him from harm.

Derek calls the rest of the pack. He has Allison do reconnaissance on the hunters and Scott on the sheriff (Scott doesn’t take to many werewolf skills naturally, but he’s very good at eavesdropping when he tries). Jackson and Lydia meet him at the school parking lot. They do catch the scents they’re looking for, but the scent trails are hours old. Derek and Lydia pursue them on foot with Jackson following in a car. Allison and Scott catch up to them and they both have some information which leads them to an abandoned property a few miles from the town limits. They cobble together a quick plan of attack. But, by the time they reach the house, Stiles is the only one there, their scents the only trace of the other pack left behind.

“Hey, guys,” Stiles says, waving.

“What the hell is going on?” Derek asks.

“I might have been mistaken?” Stiles says hesitantly, making it sound like a question.

“Mistaken about what, exactly? That you were taken by another pack? That they put you in a trunk? That their alpha was around you, that I can smell him all over you?” Derek growls.

“All over- Well, no, that all kind of happened, but I didn’t need any help to get out of it. I’m fine, really, although I could use a ride back to town.”

“What. Did. He. Want?” Derek asks, biting off each word.

“Um, he just wanted to know about that other pack that came through here.”

“And you told him?” Derek doesn’t really care whether the two packs go after each other (that pack that had come through a few weeks ago hadn’t caused any trouble and they had observed all the correct customs for being in another pack’s territory, but they had made Derek’s pack uneasy and their alpha had been unsettlingly drawn to Stiles), but it seems like Stiles would care.

“Yes. They have his son,” Stiles says a little defensively.

“Are you sure about that?”

“He could have been lying, but I don’t think so.”

Derek nods, Stiles is not a bad judge of character.

“Hey, Stiles, I’m glad you’re okay, but you think we could head home now? This place smells,” Scott pipes up.

“Yeah, can we wrap this up?” Jackson adds, flinching back a little when Derek glares at him.

Allison goes over and kisses Stiles on the cheek. “I’m glad you’re okay, too.”

Stiles smiles and says, “Thanks.”

“Yes, Stiles is fine, are we done here?” Lydia says in a bored voice, although she gives Stiles a little smile.

“Fine,” Derek says.

Allison and Scott leave. Jackson and Lydia drop Derek and Stiles off at the school parking lot and then leave, too.

Stiles looks at Derek and says, “So, um, thanks for coming after me and stuff. I guess I’ll see you later.”

“I’ll see you in a few minutes at your house, where you’ll tell me everything that happened.”

“But, uh, my dad-“

“Is on night shifts this week.”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot. How did you know?”

“I keep track.”

“That’s, um, maybe a little creepy.” Stiles gives him a wary look.

“I also keep track of any hunters.” Though maybe not for all of the same reasons. 

That seems to make Stiles feel better. “Oh, that makes sense.”

They get in their cars and Derek follows Stiles home. Then when they get there, he follows Stiles into his house. Stiles fidgets around the living room and Derek sits, watching him, and waits. Eventually, the story starts spilling out. Derek can’t really help his reaction when he hears about the offer, his eyes flashing. 

Stiles looks at him and breaks off his story. He asks, “Hey, so is there something about me that, I don’t know, attracts alphas?”

“Yes.”

“Huh. Is it like my scent or something?”

“Yes.” And it can be very distracting.

“Really? I kind of thought it was the human-but-still-part-of-a-pack thing.”

“That’s part of it, too.”

“Well, what’s _all_ of it?”

“Your scent, the fact that you are a human _chosen_ as part of a pack, your attitude, your attributes, and your behavior.” Really though, even though there are things Derek finds annoying about Stiles, he’s not surprised that these other alphas see his potential.

“…Oh. I, wow, so, okay. So, um, why doesn’t that have any affect on you? Wait, never mind. So, it’s, like, normal for alphas to keep offering me the bite?”

“I don’t know.”

“What? Why don’t you know?”

“Most people don’t turn down the offer,” Derek says with some asperity.

“Oh. You know, both Regine and Jerry seemed even more interested when they heard I hadn’t accepted the offer.”

“Most alphas enjoy a challenge.”

Stiles nods and continues telling what had happened. He finishes by telling Derek about his threat (which makes Derek smirk inwardly) and then saying that the other pack left.

Derek considers him for a second and then says, “You’re leaving something out.”

“Um, I have a question.”

“What?” Derek ask curtly.

“Is there a difference between, asking for, being offered, and just getting the bite.”

“Yes.”

“A little elaboration would be nice.”

“There’s a difference in the bond.”

“Okay… and?”

“Asking for the bite means acknowledging that that alpha is _your_ alpha – _giving_ them power over you. Just getting the bite can make for a somewhat unpredictable bond, sometimes it’s very strong, sometimes it’s very faint, mostly it’s somewhere in between, but rebelliousness isn’t very unusual. Being offered the bite is special. It means an alpha acknowledges that you’d be a very good addition to their pack.”

“Okay, so, like, someone offered the bite makes for a stronger pack? Why don’t they go around offering it to all the, like, best prospects? What makes it so special?”

“When an alpha offers someone the bite, it gives them some power over that alpha. Usually, an alpha only makes the offer to someone they think would make a good mate.” Derek tries to sound as matter-of-fact about it as he can.

“A… mate?”

“Yes.”

“I, what? What does that even mean? A good mate?”

“Someone to help take care of the pack, someone who can stand up the alpha, when necessary, without taking any authority from them, someone the pack will look to, someone the alpha can rely on.” Someone to share with, to _be_ with - to not have to be alone.

“Uh, I don’t, um, well, that’s not really something, um, I don’t really know how to respond to that.”

Derek grunts.

“Jerry said he’d be back. In six months.”

Derek narrows his eyes and clenches his teeth. “What for?”

“To make another offer. And he said I should tell you.”

Derek growls.

“And that’s kind of like throwing down a gauntlet or something, isn’t it?”

“Or something.”

“Huh. God, it’s been a long day and, jeez, so much information.”

“I’ll go.”

“No! I mean, yeah, right, you have your own stuff to do.”

Derek studies Stiles. He looks tired, a little worn, and maybe a little freaked out. His scent doesn’t have fear in it, but there’s some anxiety. And Derek has to remind himself that however well he’s handling it, Stiles was taken, by force. “I can stay, if you need me to.”

“What, no. I don’t _need_ you to do anything. Especially not, like, baby-sit me. You should go. I’ll be fine. I’m always fine,” Stiles says feigning nonchalance. 

Derek’s kind of berating himself for saying _need_ and prompting Stiles’ defensiveness. “That’s not what I meant.” Derek sighs in frustration and tries again, “I should stick around, make sure everything’s okay, make sure that pack doesn’t come back.”

Stiles looks like he’s going to protest, but then his shoulders slump and he says, “Sure, whatever you want. My dad should be back about eight a.m., so as long as you’re gone by then.” Stiles goes to the kitchen and Derek follows him. Stiles starts fixing a sandwich.

Derek watches him and thinks about what has been said and what hasn’t and he thinks maybe it’s time to step up. “Stiles.”

“You want some? It’s only-“

“I’m not unaffected. By you.”

Stiles looks up at him, mouth falling open. “You, you are? But, you’ve never offered.”

“Would you have said yes?”

“I, um, probably not.”

“Yeah.”

“I, um, I’m not sure I’ll ever want the bite.”

Derek’s not really surprised, but there’s a part of him that’s very disappointed.

“But, if I do, you’re the only one I’d ever say yes to,” Stiles says, looking down.

Derek smiles. “And what about other kinds of offers?”

Stiles looks up again and smiles back at Derek when he sees him smiling. “Well, it kind of depends on the offer, but I’d say your chances are pretty good.”

Derek gets in his space and backs him up against a counter. “A kiss?”

“What? Oh, yeah, yes, yes, definite yes on that one.”

Derek leans in slowly, so slowly, until Stiles decides to close the gap himself and then their lips meet. Derek opens his mouth and coaxes Stiles’ lips open too, intensifying the kiss. Stiles moans, which sends a little thrill through Derek. Stiles just sort of melts into the kiss and Derek should have known he’d be so responsive. They kiss for a long time, until Derek has to stop before he goes much further than he intends. Stiles ends up a little dazed and even a little docile. Derek finishes fixing that sandwich and Stiles eats it and then goes up and gets ready for bed. He falls asleep pretty easily and Derek stays and watches over him until he has to leave or get caught by the sheriff.

Over the next few weeks, Derek keeps making different offers and Stiles keeps saying yes and then starts making offers of his own. And when that other alpha comes back to town, while Derek makes sure he doesn’t try to snatch Stiles again, he’s not at all worried about what Stiles will say.


	12. But, Obviously, I’m Not Talking to You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Prompt](http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/2069.html?thread=835605#t835605): Derek/Stiles bakery/coffee shop. It isn’t a real fandom until there’s a bakery/coffee shop au.

Stiles smiles as Laura makes vaguely pornographic noises as she eats the [Butterscotch Cheesecake Bars](http://www.cookiemadness.net/2007/06/butterscotch-cheesecake-bars/) he’d made. He wishes he could get someone to make those sounds for him without the aid of baked goods, but he’ll take it.

“Hah, and my brother said hiring you was a mistake,” Laura says after she finishes.

“He said that?” Stiles asks, hurt. Sure, he has a reputation for being a little hyper (thank you, ADHD), but he doesn’t think he’s actually a liability. And, really, who is Derek to judge – he’d left town, like, five years ago. Hell, Stiles only really knows him in that small town way where you kind of know everyone without really knowing how. He’d be hard pressed to recognize him now, mostly having seen him from a distance (both in yards and years). He really only has the impression of someone dark and a little dangerous.

“Oh, honey, Derek doesn’t really trust anyone who isn’t family.”

“He trusts Peter?” Stiles asks skeptically. Peter’s okay most of the time – calm, careful, sharp as a tack. But he’d been in that accident that had killed most of the Hale clan and suffered some major head trauma. Sometimes he’s all emotion, lashing out at everyone and everything and then, every once in a while, he turns into this calculating, manipulative creature who loves to make everyone around him uncomfortable. Stiles doesn’t know if it’s all due to the physical trauma or if some of it’s psychological.

“Derek hasn’t been back since he left. And Peter only calls or takes calls from him when he’s… Peter. I’ve told Derek about they way he is, but I think it’s something you need to experience to understand. Anyway, do you know the Argents?”

“The new family in town? Scott’s head-over-heels for Allison Argent.”

“Well, they used to live a couple of towns over, in Riverside. Kate Argent, Allison’s aunt, came in here one day. She was charming and she talked herself into a job here at The Hale Pack Bakery. Derek was smitten and the rest of our family really liked her. And she used that, used Derek to get our family recipes and then she left. She started her own place in Los Angeles with our recipes. Broke Derek’s heart.”

“Oh, wow, how did I not hear about this? Did you do anything? Sue her or something?”

“Well, you were ten and we didn’t exactly advertise the issue. And, well, how do prove that sort of thing? I guess there are ways, but my parents just wanted to put it behind us. Funny, if she’d asked, they probably would have given her some of them, with their blessing. Then the accident happened not long after that and there were Peter’s medical bills and other things and we almost lost the bakery. But we didn’t, Derek and I saved it, and even though he’s been off at Columbia, going his own way, getting his MBA, he’s still protective of it. Besides, I might have told him about some of the trials and tribulations of when Scott was working here.”

“Ah, gotcha.” Scott had worked here before Stiles. Stiles had helped out a little here and there, but Scott was the one who’d needed a job. And he loves Scott, but he will never understand why Laura hired him (maybe it’s his puppy-ish quality). Scott and baking were a real mismatch. Stiles can remember Scott making cupcakes for a bake-sale when they were eleven. They were from a mix, it should have been simple. Except, apparently they were out of vegetable oil and Scott had substituted in his mom’s oregano infused olive oil, thinking it was close enough. It did not go very well in chocolate cupcakes with the strawberry frosting. And in his two months at the bakery, Scott had started a couple of (minor) fires, broken a mixer, destroyed three pans, and sliced his hand open with a cookie press. It was when he’d burnt nearly all of the breakfast offerings that he’d decided to quit (to his and Laura’s and Stiles’ relief). Laura had asked Stiles if he’d wanted the job because of the way he’d stepped in that day and kept Scott from panicking and then helped Scott bake up all kinds of scones using his mom’s recipes.

Stiles really likes working at the bakery, even though it cuts into his free time. Of course, it’s not like he has much of a social life anyway. Scott’s pretty much his only close friend and he works at the vet’s now (a much better fit). So, Stiles does baking and prep work with Laura for a couple of hours before school and works the register, does clean-up, and some prep work a couple of hours after practice Tuesday through Friday, and then works Saturdays, either mornings or afternoons, alternating with Laura, and the bakery is closed on Sundays and Mondays. Peter helps with the clean up most days, pitches in with the baking on busy days, and handles some of the special orders.

“Well, hopefully he’ll have a chance to see for himself how good you are,” Laura says.

“What?”

“He got a really good job offer from a firm in San Francisco. If he takes it, he should actually visit sometimes.”

“Okay, then for your sake, I hope he takes it.”

~~~

Stiles is putting more cookies in the case when there’s finally a lull in business one Saturday afternoon. Someone comes in and Stiles looks up. It’s a man that Stiles can’t immediately place, which is unusual. Sure, they the odd traveler or someone’s relative visiting from out of town or the new in town, but not often. He’s maybe a bit taller than Stiles, with dark hair and striking light green eyes, like twenty-five or so and there is something sort of familiar about him, but Stiles can’t quite tell what. The suit is probably throwing him off – it’s a really nice suit, not something they usually see around here. And the guy looks really good in it.

The guy looks at the white board with their specials on it. “My Love Is Like a Red, Red Brownie?” he asks with a bit of a frown.

“Like the poem, or song, I guess. It’s [a red velvet brownie with white chocolate buttercream frosting](http://smells-like-home.com/2011/06/red-velvet-brownies-with-white-chocolate-buttercream-frosting/). Around Valentine’s, we cut them in the shape of hearts,” Stiles babbles.

The guy raises an eyebrow.

Stiles just cannot stop talking. “During Halloween, we call them Blood and Bone Brownies.”

The guy snorts. “And the [Chip, Chip, Hooray! Cookies](http://www.cookiemadness.net/2008/02/chips-gone-wild/)?”

“They have a lot of different kinds of chips in them. They’re really good. I was totally going to go with a ship reference – Crave Our Chips like Save Our Ship, but then there’s the acronym, which, well, people might not appreciate like I do,” Stiles says with a smile. And is he flirting with this guy? Maybe a little.

The guy eyes him and Stiles is about two seconds from finding an excuse to go into the back so that he can bang his head against a wall when the guy finally replies, “Oh, I don’t know, I think more than a few people might like it.”

Stiles blinks. The guy had just totally flirted back. Stiles gets a little flustered. “So, you want some? Um, cookies, I mean.”

“I could go for some COC cookies.”

Stiles blushes, for a second there, he’d thought, well, something he shouldn’t have been thinking. “How many?”

“How many would you suggest?”

“The price is better if you buy them by the dozen. Or the half-dozen.”

“I’ll take a half-dozen.”

Stiles packages them and then rings him up. Stiles’ blush doesn’t fade until after the guy leaves.

~~~

It’s two weeks later and Stiles still hasn’t told Laura about the guy or Bruceman, which is what Stiles is calling him in his head because he looks kind of like Bruce Wayne, but personality wise he’s more Batman and because calling him ‘the guy’ is kind of boring and calling him Good-Looking Gruff Dude in a Suit Who Totally Flirted with Me, while descriptive, takes too long. Stiles and Laura always tell each other about interesting customer encounters. Like the time Mr. Harris threw a hissy fit because they were out of [Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough Fudge](http://traceysculinaryadventures.blogspot.com/2011/12/chocolate-chip-cookie-dough-fudge.html). Stiles doesn’t know why he doesn’t even mention it to her, but he doesn’t.

Stiles is finishing salting some [Salted Caramel Cookie Bites](http://www.kingarthurflour.com/recipes/salted-caramel-cookie-bites-recipe) (he’d thought about calling them Crazy Karma Cookies because caramel and nuts, but some people whisper about Peter being crazy, so it hadn’t seemed right). He brings the cookies out to the front and Bruceman is there.

“Hi,” Stiles says after a long moment of trying to think of something clever to say.

Bruceman nods.

“What can I get for you?” Stiles says and it comes out a little throatier than he intends. Maybe Bruceman won’t notice.

“I can think of a few things I might like to have,” Bruceman says.

“I, um, I, what do you, I mean-“

“Chocolate Trips?”

“What?”

Bruceman gestures to the white board. “[Chocolate Trips](http://cookiesandcups.com/triplechocolate-cookies/)?”

“Oh, yeah, those are cookies with three kinds of chocolate and, well, I was going to call them Chocolate Threeways-“ Stiles breaks off at the look in Bruceman’s eyes.

“But?”

“Uh, but my dad, _the sheriff_ , vetoed it, so, yeah, triple chocolate, trip.” And Stiles doesn’t know why he decided to emphasize that.

“Are they good?”

“Everything we make is good.”

“Hmm. Okay, I’ll take a half-dozen [Fudging S-crunch-ous Oreo Cookies](http://traceysculinaryadventures.blogspot.com/2012/01/double-fudge-oreo-crunch-cookies.html).”

“Good choice. Can I get you anything else?”

Bruceman considers him for a few moments, making Stiles want to shiver. “No. I’m good. For now.”

~~~

After Bruceman shows up again two Saturdays later, Stiles’ maybe plans his wardrobe a little more carefully for the next time. He’s pathetically excited. Except, on the day, manipulative Peter shows up. He keeps getting in Stiles’ space and making suggestive comments. Stiles has gotten pretty good at snarking back at Peter’s remarks in a way that doesn’t set off emotional whirlwind Peter (manipulative Peter is so much easier to deal with) and slipping away from him, but it takes most of Stiles’ faculties. 

“Is there a problem here?” 

Stiles looks up and finds Bruceman there, glowering.

“Oh, no, everything’s just fine,” Peter says and it’s really weird because it’s like he’s trying to act like he normally does, except he can’t quite get it. It’s kind of creepy. “I’ll just get out of your way now, Stiles.” And he leaves.

Bruceman watches him go with a deep frown. He turns back to Stiles and asks, “Are you okay?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. I’m fine. Peter’s just, well, sometimes he’s not himself.”

“Well, he shouldn’t be behaving like that,” Bruceman says darkly.

And oddly, Stiles feels a little affronted. He knows he’s just trying to help, but it feels almost patronizing, somehow. “I can handle it,” he says stiffly. “So, how about a [Kitchen Sink Brownie](http://www.myrecipes.com/recipe/kitchen-sink-brownies-10000001923548/)?” he asks, forcing a smile.

“Look, I didn’t mean to-“

“It’s fine.”

Bruceman studies him for a second and then asks what they put in the brownies. And then he asks something about chocolate and after a few minutes, Stiles loosens up. By the time Bruceman leaves, Stiles knows he’s in real trouble. He’s crushing about as badly as he ever did on Lydia, with about as much hope.

~~~

“-I’m meant for you.”

Stiles’ heart skips a beat and he looks up at Bruceman. He maybe wasn’t paying the strictest of attention to what was being said there (he _may_ have been fantasizing a little). “Excuse me?”

Bruceman nods his head toward the board. “I’m Mint for You?”

Of course, of course that’s what he’d meant. “Oh, uh, yeah, [Whoopie Pies with Crème De Menthe Filling](http://www.recipe.com/giant-whoopie-pies-with-creme-de-menthe-filling/). Mint and chocolate, really good.”

“Ah, yes, everything you make is good.”

“Have you tried anything here that wasn’t?”

“No,” Bruceman concedes with a faint smile.

Stiles breath catches. Bruceman’s never smiled before. Crap, it’s possible he’s more lovesick than Scott and he didn’t think that was possible. “So, um, shut up.”

Bruceman’s smile gets a little wider and Stiles smiles back, resisting the urge to sigh.

~~~

Laura’s beaming at Stiles one morning when he comes in. She’s so happy she’s practically bouncing.

“What?” he asks.

“My brother admitted that he wrong,” she sing-songs.

“About what?” he asks, starting to smile, her mood infectious.

“About you, silly.”

“Me?”

“You’ve really impressed him with your baking and customer skills.”

Stiles is seriously confused. “I have?”

“Yup. He says he always walks out having bought something good.”

And maybe it’s the word good, maybe it’s finally placing why there’s something familiar about him, but Stiles suddenly realizes – Bruceman is Derek Hale. “Oh.”

“Yeah, it’s kind of awesome.” Laura comes over and gives him a hug, which he awkwardly returns.

As Stiles mixes up doughs and puts scones in the ovens, he tells himself that the reason his chest feels tight is the flour in the air. And he must have gotten a bit of ginger in his eyes because they sting a little.

~~~

It takes a few days for Stiles to get his head around it. It’s not like Brucem- Derek Hale _lied_. Stiles never asked for his name. But then Derek had never offered it. Stiles feels tricked, somehow. He resolves to put it behind him, though. Unfortunately, that doesn’t mean he knows how to act or what to say when Bru- Derek shows up again. So, Stiles gives him a small, polite smile as he puts the [Let the Cinnamonfully Good Cookies Roll](http://heatovento350.blogspot.com/2011/08/cinnamon-roll-cookies.html) in the case. It’s near the end of his shift and Laura’s already in the back, hopefully he can get through this and just go home.

“Are you not talking to me for some reason? Are you upset about something?” Derek asks.

Stiles looks at Derek in surprise. “What?”

“You usually talk a lot.”

“Oh.” Stiles doesn’t say anything for a moment. Then he blurts out, “Why didn’t you tell me who you were?”

“What?”

“I didn’t know that- You should have- Never mind.”

“You didn’t know who I was?”

Stiles doesn’t say anything.

“I thought you knew. How could you not know?” Derek asks.

“Well, excuse me for not connecting this,” Stiles says waving his hand at Derek in his suit, “with the dude in the leather jacket with the cool car.”

“So, you do remember me.”

“You were the closest thing this town had to James Dean. But it’s not like we ran in the same circles and you left _five years_ ago.”

“If you didn’t know who I was, why were you flirting with me?”

Stiles stares at him. “Why do you think?”

“I thought that you thought I was a safe person to test your… charms on. Someone to learn on.”

That’s kind of like a blow to the stomach for Stiles.

“But you were really flirting with me?”

Stiles doesn’t really see any point in denying it, so he nods.

Derek huffs out a small laugh.

He’s _laughing_ at Stiles. Stiles clenches his jaw and says, “Fuck you.”

Derek looks startled. “What?”

Stiles is angry and humiliated and he just can’t do this anymore. He pulls his apron off and says, “I quit.” He gets out from behind the counter and heads for the door.

“Wait-“

“Oh and _now_ , I’m not talking to you,” Stiles says and walks out.

~~~

Stiles is still seething when he gets home. He slams around the house, muttering to himself, but, after a while, the anger seeps away. It leaves him feeling tired and hurt and so, so stupid. And he feels bad for just walking out like that. He hopes Laura didn’t hear their argument. He’ll probably go begging for his job back on Tuesday. Or maybe he can just show up and pretend nothing happened and Laura will go with it. Because as much as he really doesn’t want to see Derek again or be connected to him in any way, he really likes his job and Laura and even Peter, most of the time.

Part of the reason he likes the job so much is because baking is comforting. He used to help his mom with it and so he always feels a little closer to her when he’s baking something. Stiles goes to the kitchen and starts pulling together ingredients. He’s making [Brewer’s Blondies](http://sweetpeaskitchen.com/2010/11/06/brewers-blondies/) (it’s a terrible name for something so good, he’ll have to think up a new one, like Maltese Awesome Blondies or something). He turns the oven on and gets a pan ready and then beats up the batter. He puts the batter in the pan and the pan in the oven and sets the timer. He slowly cleans up after himself. It’s weird how disappointed he feels. He can’t say he thought there was any real probability of something happening between him and Bruceman, especially after finding out that he was Derek. But at heart, Stiles is all about hope. And there was this little bit of hope. Just, it was really nice to think about a potential something, someday. Except, Derek was _playing_ at it. Not maliciously or anything, he thought he was _indulging_ Stiles, humoring him. It should hurt so much, but it does. It does.

The timer goes off and he pulls the blondies out of the oven. The whole kitchen smells amazing. He waits for them to cool and then cuts them up. He eats three and then stops. Usually, he can eat half the pan, but today he can’t. He puts the rest in a plastic container and the pan in the sink and then heads upstairs. He digs his phone out of his pocket with a vague idea of calling Scott and, wow, there are a lot of messages and missed calls. A bunch from Laura, a bunch from a number he doesn’t recognize, a message from Peter and a message from Scott. He listens to the message from Scott.

“Hey, man, uh, Laura called. She wants to talk to you. She sounded worried. You should call her when you get a chance. Oh, and her brother, Derek, is back in town and he was looking for you. He’s kind of… intense. Did something happen? Is everything okay? I know I haven’t been around much, but you can talk to me. Call me back,” Scott’s voice says, sounding concerned.

Stiles smiles. Lately, Scott’s been all about Allison and it’s nice to know he can still be there for Stiles. He’s about to call Scott back when there’s a knocking on the door. He goes downstairs and he doesn’t even think to check who it is, a habit his father can’t seem to break him of. He opens the door and Derek is there on the porch. Stiles stares at him in shock.

“Stiles-“

His name breaks Stiles out of his shock and he slams the door closed again and locks it. He beats a retreat up to his room even as Derek starts knocking again and calling his name loudly. Stiles crawls onto on his bed and pulls his pillow over his head. After a few minutes, Derek stops. Which is good. Stiles jumps when he hears a tap on his window. That’s probably Scott. Stiles pulls the pillow off his head and gets up and jumps again because it’s not Scott at the window, it’s Derek. He goes over and opens the window. “What are you doing up here?”

“You wouldn’t answer the door.”

“So, you thought window? How did you even get up here?” Stiles and Scott can get up here pretty easily with all the practice they’ve had, but it’s a bit of a scramble. And Derek’s still in his suit, not a hair out of place.

“I’ve actually been up here before.”

Stiles is confused. “Huh?”

“Yeah, one Halloween, there was a dare. TP-ing the Sheriff’s house. It was stupid,” Derek says a little sheepishly.

“Were you dressed as, like, the wolf-man?”

Derek gives him an odd look. “Kind of. How did you know?”

“I saw you. I had nightmares.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Whatever. Get in.”

Derek climbs in. “Look, Stiles-“

“Now, get out. Through the door, I mean.”

“I know you’re mad at me, but-“

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know you like to talk, but even you think you talk too much sometimes. I know you like to bake and I know you’re good at it. Your best friend is Scott McCall and he works at the vet’s and he hasn’t been around much because he’s been spending so much time with Allison Argent. You don’t like Jackson Whittemore, the captain of the lacrosse team, because he’s an ass. You’ve had a crush on Lydia Martin for years. You like lacrosse, but you’re not great at it and you mostly sit on the bench. Your mind sometimes goes about forty different directions at once, which you both love and hate at the same time. You used to have panic attacks. You worry about your dad because he’s the sheriff and because of his cholesterol. One of your greatest fears is getting left behind. You miss your mom,” Derek says quietly.

“How do you know all that?” Stiles asks.

“You told me.”

Stiles _had_ told him. But he knows he talks too much. Even people who don’t interrupt him or shut him down, don’t _listen_ when he starts rambling. “You listened?” he asks, voice cracking just a little.

“Yes.”

“But you said I talk too much.”

“No, you said you talk too much. I said you talk a lot.”

“Oh. Okay. I- I’m sorry, for earlier. I shouldn’t have gotten so upset. I was being stupid. And I shouldn’t have walked out. I don’t really want to quit. I’ll talk to Laura.”

“And that’s it?”

“Unless you want another apology? Or you don’t want me back at the bakery?” Stiles asks, feeling a little panicky at the thought of really losing his job.

“What? No, of course you should go back to the bakery. And I came here to apologize to you.”

“You did?”

“Yes. I know how it seemed and I wasn’t laughing at you. I was laughing at myself. I didn’t mean, I wasn’t trying to, I’m sorry I upset you.”

“That’s okay. Like I said, I was being stupid. I don’t know what I was thinking. Someone like you going for someone like me – so ridiculous.”

“It’s not- Stiles, you’re sixteen.”

“Yeah, and?”

“And I’m twenty-three and that’s illegal.”

“Well, it kind of depends on where you are. Did you know that in parts of Mexico, the age of consent is puberty? Although there are some other vague laws. And in Canada, it’s sixteen. Hell, in Nevada, it’s sixteen. I’m not really sure why it’s not the same for every state and some of them have really weird exceptions. California is actually really bad because if I had sex with someone my own age, we could each be prosecuted for sex with the other and that’s just messed up.”

“Why do you know that?”

“My dad said something and so I looked it up. There are some strange-ass laws out there. Especially about sex and who can and can’t have it. But, it doesn’t matter because you’re not interested in me anyway.”

“Stiles, you’re sixteen and I’m twenty-three.”

“Yeah, we’ve established that. I don’t-“ Stiles breaks off because it seems like there’s something behind what Derek’s saying. “Are you saying you want to take a trip to Reno with me?” Stiles asks uncertainly.

“I-, no, I’m saying, I guess I’m saying, try again later.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

~~~

Stiles’ life gets a little more complicated. He’s in this weird holding pattern of not-dating with Derek. Derek, who still comes to town every other weekend, who still listens to what Stiles has to say, who eventually starts telling things about himself. Stiles ends up telling Scott about everything. Then Stiles accidentally tells his dad about the whole trying again later, which means that Derek gets invited to dinner and, for some reason, Scott shows up too. Stiles had thought it was just going to be his dad offering some veiled threats, instead it turns into Scott interrogating Derek about his intentions while Stiles and his dad watch. Scott gets the answers he’s looking for and if he doesn’t seem enthusiastic about Derek, he’s at least accepting of him. Stiles’ dad actually seems to like Derek, even if he does sneak in one threat. And so, when Stiles’ eighteenth birthday rolls around, he tries flirting again (he’s actually pretty bad at it, he hasn’t done it in a while). Derek laughs and asks him out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know if any of the recipe links aren't working and I will try to find alternate ones as these are all good recipes.


	13. I’m So Not Buying Your Threats Anymore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Prompt](http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/3353.html?thread=2421785#t2421785) by : Danny/Stiles friendship, Derek/Stiles or Danny/Stiles. Stiles thought everything would be fine after Derek became the Alpha, he thought he'd finally belong. Stiles was told he was pack but he's excluded from meetings and pack night, at first it was okay because so was Allison but then she was invited along. Stiles becomes friends with Danny because they both have lost their best friends, Danny helps him with lacrosse and helps him figure out if he likes boys as well as girls. A school trip is scheduled for a full moon, Scott casually tells Stiles that Derek forbids him from going, Stiles goes anyways. The whole pack is furious, Stiles says he's out and he doesn't care because he was never really in it to begin with. Love to see Derek and Stiles happy ending (mates), or sad ending with Stiles ending up with Danny.

At first, Stiles is fine with it (well, not _fine_ , exactly, but he gets that there might be some wolf only things). So, he’s not invited to a few (any) pack meetings. But then when Scott is talking to him on the phone about Allison and he realizes that she was at the last pack meeting, Stiles sort of wants to throw something. Stiles steers the conversation towards the next pack meeting and then hints about maybe coming to it. Scott doesn’t respond to the hints, so Stiles bluntly asks if he can come. Stiles does actually end up throwing his phone when Scott quickly ends the call after saying it’s not a good idea.

~~~

Stiles is sitting at a cafeteria table, just staring at his tray of food. He darts a quick glance over at the table where Scott, Allison, Jackson, and Lydia had sat even after he had pointed to the seats next to him when they’d come in. Allison catches his gaze and gives him a sympathetic smile. He looks back at his tray. Now, not only is he not good enough for pack meetings, he’s not good enough to eat with.

Someone sets a tray down on the table opposite him. “Hey, I was wondering if you could teach me how to be a social pariah.”

Stiles looks up, startled, to find Danny there with a smile, inviting him to share the joke. He blinks and says, “Well, first you have to get your best friend to ditch you.”

Danny looks over at the other table, at Jackson, and then looks back at Stiles. “Check.”

“A crush on someone popular and unattainable helps.”

Danny nods. “Okay.”

“And you should be weird or quirky enough that it makes others wary of you, you know, in case it’s contagious.”

“I’ll work on it.”

“Oh, and if you can be not great at a sport that the whole town’s into, you’re golden.”

“I’m not sure I can do that one.”

“Ah, well, not everyone can be as awesome as I am.”

Danny gives him a commiserating smile.

~~~

Scott stops spending any time with Stiles and when he calls, it’s usually just Scott asking for Stiles’ research skills. On the one hand, he’s glad Scott still thinks he’s useful for something, on the other hand, he’s beginning to feel bitter and resentful that apparently that’s all that he’s good for. And when Stiles’ dad asks what Scott’s been up to lately and Stiles doesn’t have a clue, he’s left wondering if this is how a friendship dies. Oddly, he’s also bothered by Jackson leaving him completely alone – like he’s not even worthy of Jackson’s insults. His interaction with Lydia is pretty much the same as before any of the wolf stuff happened – she utterly ignores the fact that he exists. Allison seems to be the only one who cares about Stiles’ exclusion (he’s caught her watching him with a troubled expression on her face and once he was almost sure she was about to come over and talk to him) and she doesn’t even know him all that well.

Danny is the one bright spot in all of this. They’ve been getting closer, hanging out more, becoming actual friends. Stiles doesn’t even care of it’s just because they’re in the same boat. Danny’s even been helping him with lacrosse. And Stiles’ grades are up. Danny’s a serious student, so when they have study sessions, they actually study instead of playing video games and watching movies.

Stiles isn’t a bad student – he learns material pretty quickly, but he can get distracted easily. Anything he doesn’t find that interesting, he tends to let slide. He usually maintains a B average (A’s in the subjects he likes, C’s in the ones he doesn’t). He knows it disappoints his dad that he doesn’t try to live up to his potential. Now, because of Danny and the fact that tests, papers and projects count for more since they’re getting close to the end of the year, Stiles is pulling A minuses and B pluses where he was getting C’s before. It’s still kind of a shock, though, when the principal calls him into the office and says that his grades have earned him a place on the school merit trip. And sure, it’s only a camping trip, but they get to miss three days of school (not the last few activity days, but the ones the week before, the deadly dull filler days that still get you dinged if you don’t attend). His dad looks so proud when Stiles tells him that Stiles has to swallow against a lump in his throat. Danny’s going on the trip, too (although he’d probably earned his place back in, like, October).

~~~

Stiles is packing for the trip. He’s on the phone with Danny, trying to decide what he needs to take. They’re leaving from the school parking lot early tomorrow and then, joy of joys, hours on a school bus, but other than that, he’s really looking forward to it. He has a thought and runs downstairs to grab a bunch of individually wrapped Twizzlers (both he and his dad like them and they’re low-fat so he never feels the need to hide them). Stiles asks Danny if he wants any, ready to bring a few extra, and Danny says he doesn’t much go for sweet stuff, which is blasphemy. Danny laughs when Stiles tells him this. When he gets back up to his room, Scott is there.

“Hey man, I’m going to have to call you back,” Stiles says to Danny. They say their goodbyes and Stiles drops his phone and the Twizzlers on his bed. “Hi,” Stiles says, holding out a hand to Scott for a handshake, “I’m Stiles, and you are?”

Scott rolls his eyes. “Was that Danny?”

Stiles drops his hand. “You couldn’t tell?”

“I could. I just-“

“So, what do you need? What am I looking into?”

“What? No, that’s not why I’m here.”

“Then why?’

Scott waves at the half-packed bag on Stiles’ bed. “Um, about this trip…”

“Yeah, it’s kind of cool. In sort of a geeky way.”

“You can’t go.”

“What?”

“You can’t go on this trip.”

“Um, yes, I can.”

“No, Stiles, you can’t.”

“Why? Because you say so?”

“No, because Derek says so.”

Stiles just stares at him, waiting for the punch line. After a long moment, he questions, “Derek says so?”

“Yeah, you’re not allowed.”

He’s not _allowed_? What? “And why am I not allowed?”

“You just aren’t.”

“Okay.”

And Scott smiles at him, taking it for agreement like Stiles knew he would, instead of just the acknowledgement that Stiles means. “Good. Sorry, man. I’ll see you later.” And then Scott is climbing out the window.

Stiles waits for a few minutes and then resumes packing.

~~~

The bus trip isn’t all that bad. Danny’s a little looser with no classes to worry about. They play games on their phones most of the way there. Stiles rules at word games and Danny wins handily at anything with numbers. When they get to the campsite, they eat and the chaperones go over the rules and safety information. There aren’t that many students, so it’s only two to a cabin that would usually sleep four. He and Danny take one that’s at the edge of the site, close to the woods. Everyone plays a bunch of silly games, including Capture The Flag with glow-in-the-dark vests, flags and markers, once the sun goes down. Stiles and Danny are on the winning team, it’s stupidly fun.

After the game, everyone retires for the night. Stiles falls asleep about two seconds after lights out. He wakes up suddenly, some time later, not sure why he’s awake. “Stiles,” a harsh whisper comes out of the dark.

Stiles’ heart skips a beat. And he looks around the room without moving anything but his eyes. He notices the window next to his bed is open and he can see, in the dim moonlight, someone is just outside of it. He’s ready to freak the hell out, but his eyes adjust and he realizes he recognizes who it is. “Scott?”

“Shh, you’ll wake Danny. Come here,” Scott whispers.

“What?”

“Shh.”

“Fine, I’ll be quiet. What are you doing here?” Stiles whispers back.

“Just come on and I’ll explain.”

Stiles sighs and gets out of bed. He pulls on his jeans and a plaid shirt over the boxers and t-shirt he was sleeping in. Then he puts on his shoes.

“Hurry up,” Scott whispers.

“I’m coming.”

Stiles climbs out the window and follows Scott into the woods. After the third time he trips in the dim light, Scott latches on to his arm and tows him along. It seems like they walk a long way and the more Stiles wakes and becomes fully aware, the stranger the situation seems. They reach a clearing and the whole pack is there. They all look pissed off, especially Derek. And it seems to be directed at Stiles (except for Allison, she actually seems angry with Derek).

“Alright, what the hell is going on?” Stiles asks, bewildered.

“I told you not to come,” Derek growls out.

“No, Scott told me that you said I wasn’t _allowed_ to come, but since you have no authority over me, I disregarded that.”

Derek’s eyes go red. “I’m your alpha.”

“No, no. You’re _their_ alpha,” Stiles says, gesturing at the rest of the group.

“Yours too.”

“Oh, no, it’s been made abundantly clear to me that I am not part of your pack. I am the guy you call when you need information, not good enough for anything else. And you know what? I think that needs to stop, too. Find yourself some other research monkey. I’m done.”

Scott speaks up, “Stiles-“

“No. I’m going back to my cabin.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Derek says.

“Are you going to stop me? Going to kidnap me? Force me to do what you what? Are you going to be just like Peter?” Stiles asks belligerently. Scott reaches out and Stiles takes a step back. “If any of you lay a finger on me, I start screaming bloody murder.”

“Jeez, Stilinski, if you showed one-tenth this fierceness on the field, you be first string,” Jackson drawls out.

“Shut up,” Stiles snaps at him.

Jackson actually takes a step back from him.

“Stiles, we were just trying to keep you safe,” Scott says.

“Safe. Uh-huh.”

“Look, there’s a group of hunters that thinks that humans who are friendly with werewolves are worse than the werewolves and so they go after them first. We were just trying to keep you off their radar. If they didn’t see you with us, they wouldn’t know you were part of the pack and they wouldn’t come after you. Unfortunately, it didn’t work and they followed you here,” Lydia says plainly.

“Oh, okay that makes sense. Oh, no, wait, it totally doesn’t. Allison’s human, why didn’t they go after her?” Stiles asks.

Allison answers, “Um, that group thinks I’m gaining the pack’s trust to eventually betray it, like my aunt Kate. And for the record, I thought it was stupid not to at least let you know what was going on.”

Stiles looks at the group. “I wasn’t invited to pack meetings, you didn’t talk to me, you wouldn’t eat with me, and it was all to keep me safe?”

Derek replies, “Yes, and it didn’t work. So, we-“

“Well, now, that’s not exactly true. No one’s thrown me against a wall or bounced my head off a steering wheel,” Stiles says, looking at Derek, and then he turns to Scott, “No one’s tried to kill me.” Stiles looks at Lydia and says, “No one has used the safety of someone I care about as leverage just to get me to do something.” He looks at Jackson. “And no one has belittled me or pushed me around on the lacrosse field just because they could.” Stiles smiles at Allison because she seems to be the only one who cares how him being ostracized by them made him feel. Then he’s back to looking at Derek. “So, I have been safe. Let’s keep it that way. You all can leave and I’ll figure something out on my own. I’m pretty good at it, I’ve had a lot of practice.”

Everybody talks at once after he finishes until Derek silences them with a look. “We’re not leaving you on your own,” he says angrily to Stiles.

“Well, I’m not going with you.”

Derek glowers at him and Stiles glares back. Derek turns away with a frustrated huff. “Then it looks like we’re staying here.”

Stiles blinks at him.

“We’ll camp out. We’ll stay close by and keep our senses open,” Derek says to the pack.

“I have some conditions,” Stiles says.

Jackson rolls his eyes. “We don’t need your permission.”

“I can make things very difficult for you. I’m angry and creative. Trust me, you don’t want to go up against me.”

“Name them,” Derek says.

Stiles is taken aback, but quickly recovers. Stiles says to Jackson, “You have to tell Danny about everything. I haven’t told him anything about werewolves because it’s not my secret to tell. But he might be in danger too and he deserves to know why and why you’ve pushed him away.”

Jackson looks at Derek, who gives a curt nod. “Fine.”

Stiles says to Derek, “And you and I are going to have an actual discussion, where questions get answered, no one gets threatened, and I say when it’s over.”

Derek scowls, but gives another nod.

“Good, then we’re agreed.”

“That’s it?” Scott asks.

“Yeah.”

“You don’t want any apologies or anything?”

“Jesus, Scott, forced apologies don’t mean anything. And frankly, I’m not even sure a sincere, freely-given apology would mean much at this point.”

“Stiles-“

“I have to get back. Can someone lead me back?”

“I’ll do it,” Derek says.

Stiles turns to go and then stops, turns back, and goes up to Allison. He gives her a somewhat awkward hug. “Thanks for… just, thanks.” She hugs him back and kisses him on the cheek. He lets go, turns, and gestures for Derek to lead the way.

They walk in silence for a minute and then Derek asks, “You want that discussion now?”

“No, I’m way too tired and way too angry right now.” Stiles doesn’t know why he’s so angry. Before he knew what was going on, he was mostly confused and sad.

“It really was to keep you safe.”

“I know I’m not the bravest person-“

Derek snorts.

“What?”

“You have too much foolhardy courage. You stand up to _everyone_ \- bullies, hunters, werewolves, _alphas_.”

“Whatever, I’m mouthy by nature. Anyway, I’d choose knowing about something that directly affects me over the risk to my safety. It still would have sucked, but at least I wouldn’t have felt like I did, like I do.”

They’re silent again until they get close to cabin. Derek stops him before he heads over and says, “Stiles, you are part of our pack. My pack.”

Stiles makes a noncommittal noise and goes over to the cabin. He quietly climbs back in the window. He slides it closed and he can just make out Derek at the edge of the woods, watching. He takes off his shoes, jeans, and over-shirt. He gets into bed.

“Where’d you go?” Danny asks.

Stiles startles a little. “I was meeting someone in the woods,” he says after a moment, not wanting to lie anymore than he has to.

“Miguel.”

“I, yeah.”

“He’s not your cousin.”

“His name’s not Miguel, either.”

“Stiles, you don’t have to hide the fact that you have a boyfriend, you know that, right?”

“He’s…” and what comes out instead of ‘not my boyfriend’ is, “older than me. By a few years.” 

“Oh, you don’t want him to get in trouble.”

“Yeah.”

“You two are being safe, right?”

“We aren’t, we haven’t, uh…” Stiles trails off. Why didn’t he just say Scott came down to try and fix things between them?

“Oh. That’s… really nice. That you’re going slow. And impressive, given the, uh, tension between you two.”

“Tension?”

“Yeah, I can’t believe you tried to pass him off as your cousin.”

“Heh, yeah, not my best moment.”

“You like him a lot.”

“I, uh, I-“

“It’s okay, Stiles.”

“It really isn’t. My life would be so much less complicated if I didn’t like him at all.”

“But not as interesting.”

Stiles lets out an involuntary laugh. “You don’t know the half of it.”

“Alright. Night, Stiles.”

“Night.” Stiles is so glad that Jackson is going to tell Danny the truth. He’s a good friend and Stiles feels bad for not telling him everything. It takes a while to fall back asleep.

~~~

In the morning, there’s a scavenger hunt. Stiles doesn’t do all that well, distracted as he is. He feels like he’s being watched, which he probably is – one of the wolves keeping ears and eyes on him. After lunch, they’re free for a couple of hours before more activities. He and Danny head back to the cabin. Jackson is sitting on Danny’s bed when they get inside. Danny looks shocked. Stiles raises his eyebrows in question at Jackson. Jackson gives a nod. Apparently, he isn’t wasting any time.

“Want me to stay?” Stiles asks.

“What? Oh, um, I don’t know,” Danny says.

Stiles looks at Jackson, silently asking the same question. Jackson looks a little surprised. “Oh, well, I think we’ll be okay.”

Stiles shrugs and goes outside, sticking close to the cabin, just in case. He wanders around to the side closest to the woods and sits on the ground, letting his mind go blank (well, not blank, it doesn’t really do that, but he doesn’t chase after the idle thoughts that come, just lets them go and drifts along on a wave of unrelated ideas and imaginings). After some time, he becomes aware of Scott sitting next to him.

“Hey,” Scott says when he looks over.

“Hey.”

“I’m sorry. For not telling you. But I’m really sorry for being a crappy friend.”

“I’m sorry for, you know, causing your whole werewolf thing.”

“Stiles, it wasn’t your fault, Peter was the one who bit me.”

“Well, then, do you think you could stop punishing me for it?”

“I’m not, I wouldn’t… Have I been doing that?”

“Little bit. But some of it was probably because I thought being a werewolf was cool.”

“Okay, yeah, a little bit. Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“If you thought it was so cool, why didn’t you say yes to Peter?”

“I thought it was cool for _you_. It cured your asthma, got you on first string, and helped you with Allison – some. I’m not sure it would be like that for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Sometimes ADHD sucks, but not all the time. Sometimes I feel like I could think up anything. And I don’t know what would happen without it, who I would be without it. Asthma’s pretty much all bad and you’re better off without it. But, well, what if I’m not better off?”

“Jeez, Stiles.”

“Yeah, and you know what might be worse than if becoming a werewolf cures it?”

“What?”

“If it _doesn’t_. Imagine a werewolf, with heightened senses and ADHD.”

“God.”

“Yeah, so…”

They sit without saying anything for a few minutes. Then Scott gets up. “They’re wrapping up in there, so I’m going to go.”

“Okay.”

“I really am sorry.”

Stiles studies him for a moment and then says, “Apology accepted,” with a lopsided smile.

“Cool.”

Scott walks off toward the woods. A minute later, Jackson comes around the corner of the cabin. He nods at Stiles and disappears off into the woods, too. Stiles goes into the cabin. Danny’s sitting on his bed.

“Hey,” Stiles says tentatively.

“Hey.”

“Are you angry?”

“I’m not sure what I am. I have some questions.”

“I can try and answer them.

It turns out that Jackson left some stuff out. Or maybe he never actually knew it. It’s not like Derek is a great communicator. So, Stiles goes back to the beginning and tells Danny what he knows happen plus his speculations and research into everything else. 

Danny processes all of that and then asks, “So, what does it mean to be pack?”

“I’m honestly not sure. I don’t know how different it is for werewolves and humans. I guess that’s something I’ll need to figure out.”

“And last night – that was about these hunters, right?”

“Yes.”

“You and _Derek Hale_ aren’t dating, then?”

“No.”

“But you do like him?”

“It’s… complicated. Like I said.”

“Well, I’m not really sure simple would work for you.”

“Probably not,” Stiles concedes.

“Do you think I could be… pack? I mean, do you think they’d want me?”

“Yeah, I do.”

~~~

Later that night, Stiles and Danny are back in the cabin, in for the night. Danny’s reading a book and Stiles is messing with his phone and letting his mind turn everything over.

“Stiles,” Danny says.

Stiles looks over at him.

Danny nods toward the window. Derek is standing just outside. “Are you sure you’re not dating?” Danny asks.

Stiles winces. “Uh, dude, werewolves have super senses. He can hear you.”

Danny makes a face. “Sorry.”

Stiles gets up. “I’ll be back in a while.”

“Uh-huh.”

Stiles opens the window and climbs out. He follows Derek into the woods. They end up in the same clearing as before, only this time they’re alone. Stiles waits for Derek to give some indication why they’re here.

“You have questions,” Derek says.

“Always.”

“You wanted a discussion.”

“Oh. I totally should’ve made notes. Okay, um, what does being part of a pack mean? And since when am I part of it? Do you really think the hunters will attack here? And why didn’t one of you just say something? And why-“

“Wait, stop. Being part of the pack means accepting me as Alpha, being there for your packmates, keeping each other grounded.”

“Being there, huh?”

“Yes, your safety took priority. I didn’t let anyone tell you because I thought that if you decided that pack needed your help, you would disregard your own safety and come running.”

“Yeah, well, even with you pushing me away, I still would have tried to help.”

Derek shakes his head and looks exasperated. “Anyway, I don’t know if the hunters will attack here – it would be a big risk for them, but I didn’t want to take the chance.”

“Oh.”

“You’ve been part of my pack since you fed and sheltered me.”

“Really?”

Derek nods.

“Huh.” All of that time. Stiles puts that aside to think about later. “Do werewolf packs work like wolf packs?”

“There are some things that are similar. A lot depends on the pack - what everyone’s wolf is like.”

“How do you mean?”

“The wolf part can be very different from the human part or it can be very much the same. The dynamics of the pack can change depending on that.”

“Would you expect me to, um, do you want to give me the bite?”

“I don’t want anyone who doesn’t want to be a werewolf to get bitten.”

“Okay. But I guess, the real question is: why do you even want me in your pack?”

“What?”

“You don’t seem to like me very much.”

Derek looks taken aback.

“You’re annoyed by my talking, you threaten me, _a lot_ , and you’re always shoving me up against walls.”

“You talk a lot, all the time, and sometimes it is annoying. And the threats, well, you were there getting into things you shouldn’t and I was trying to get you to back down, which didn’t work. I would have stopped, I should have stopped, except it’s…”

“It’s what?”

Derek looks almost sheepish. “Fun.”

“Fun?!”

“You react like a spooked cat.”

Stiles scoffs. “I do not. So, this is how you get your jollies? Threatening innocent teenagers?” Stiles ignores the raised eyebrow at the word ‘innocent’. “And the shoving? Is that _fun_ , too?”

“No, not… fun.”

“Then why?”

Derek doesn’t say anything.

After a very long moment, Stiles says, “Hey, questions are supposed to be answered here, remember?”

Derek opens his mouth and then closes it.

“Okay, what’s up? Is it really that hard to explain? How about a hint? Or, no, an analogy. It’s like…”

Derek blows out a breath. “Like… like when you push someone down on the playground.”

“You, you like being a bully?” Stiles asks uncertainly.

“No.”

“But why else would you push someone down on- Oh, oh my God! Seriously? And all this time I thought you were just, you know, wanting to do the whole brooding lone wolf thing. Because, Jesus, look at you, you could have anyone you wanted with, like, minimal effort. Except, apparently, you don’t know how. And how did that happen?” Stiles asks incredulously.

“My first and only serious relationship with someone ended with her burning my house down with my family in it.”

“That would do it. For the record, ‘Hey, want to go on a date?’ is a much better and much clearer way to indicate that you like someone.”

“You didn’t say anything, either.”

“How- You totally heard that conversation with Danny that first night, didn’t you? As for me not saying anything, see the aforementioned annoyed, threatening, shoving. And as for relationships, I’ve had one less than you. Also, I don’t know if you know this, but I am really good at pining, I excel at it, even,” Stiles says.

There’s a little smile playing on Derek’s lips. Stiles is charmed and a little proud to have been the cause of it.

“So, we need to come up with a good reason for me to cut this trip short. I’m usually pretty good at this, but I’m drawing a blank.”

“I thought you weren’t leaving.”

“I changed my mind. Maybe Scott could have a somewhat serious ‘accident’. But that seems like more trouble than it’s worth. By the way, where do people think everyone is? I mean, you didn’t just leave town, right? There aren’t, like, parents looking for their kids?”

“Camping. Their parents think they’re camping.”

“And Scott’s mom and Allison’s parents were okay with Scott and Allison going off on a camping trip together?” Stiles asks skeptically. He doesn’t mention Lydia’s or Jackson’s parents because they seem inclined to let their children do whatever they want.

“Actually, the Argents are with us. Which is why Scott’s mother was okay with it. They’re in an RV at a site not far from this one.”

“The Argents are here?”

“They have a code. In their eyes, these other hunters need to be stopped.”

“Oh, wow. Tell me Scott is sleeping in the RV. Like, less than ten feet from Mr. Argent. Because that would be awesome.”

“I have a tent, but everyone else is in the RV.”

Stiles laughs. “That must be so awkward.”

Derek doesn’t deny it. “I’m not sure you leaving is a good idea anymore. They know we’re here. I think the only thing keeping them from attacking is the other people here. If we left with you, I think they’d go for us all at once. So, we’ll stay. You can go home on the bus and we’ll make our stand in Beacon Hills.”

“Alright. We’ll need a plan. And a contingency plan, or eight.”

“Yes.”

They sit there figuring out some rough ideas until Stiles yawns. “We can pick this up tomorrow with the rest of the pack,” Derek says.

“What about Danny?”

Derek raises an eyebrow.

“He might want to join the pack.”

“After we deal with these hunters, I’ll talk to him.”

“I’ll let him know.”

“You should get some sleep.”

“Yeah.”

Derek walks him back. When they get to the edge of the woods, Derek stops Stiles with a hand on his arm. “Hey, want to go on a date?”

“I, yeah, yes, I do.”

“Next Saturday. Be at my place at seven.”

“Okay, yeah.” Stiles walks over to the cabin in a bit of a daze, very aware of Derek watching him. He climbs back in the window and closes it. He looks over at Danny and he’s asleep. Stiles undresses and gets into bed. He falls asleep with a smile on his face.

~~~

The next day, the school group hikes the trail that runs by the small lake near the campsite. It’s not a difficult trail, but it does get narrow at points. Unfortunately there’s another big group on the trail going in the opposite direction. Somehow, as the two groups are passing, working their way around each other, Stiles gets knocked into the lake. He’s fine, except he’s completely soaked and wet jeans are not fun. He heads back to the campsite to change, waving away Danny’s offer to go back with him.

As he walks back, he notices that he has this weird sore spot on his side. He thinks something bit him or stung him. He gets progressively more tired and he’s really dragging when he reaches his cabin. By the time he’s out of his wet clothes and in dry ones, he’s weaving on his feet. He shouldn’t be so sleepy, there’s something wrong. He sits down on his bed and then falls back and he’s out.

~~~

Stiles wakes up coughing, to a room filled with smoke. He sluggishly rolls off the bed, his body feeling leaden. He gets to the door and it won’t open. It’s so hard to breathe. He makes his way to a window. The shutters are closed over it and they won’t budge. It’s the same with the other windows. He tries to crawl to the door again, but he’s light-headed and can’t stop coughing. He collapses weakly on the floor, pretty sure he’s going to die.

He hears something and then the door crashes open, splinters flying. It’s Derek, in wolf form. He drags Stiles outside. Stiles tries to breathe in the fresh air without hacking up a lung, lying there on the ground. He’s exhausted and all he wants to do is sleep. His eyes flutter closed.

There’s a hand on his face. “Stiles, open your eyes,” Derek’s voice demands. Stiles blinks his eyes open. Derek’s there, hovering over him, mostly human, eyes still red. “Stay awake. People are coming. I have to go. Stay awake.”

Stiles gives him a thumbs up, coughing.

Derek keeps his hand on Stiles’ face for a few seconds longer before he leaves.

Then, there’s shouting and chaos and people asking him what happened. He stays awake as long as he can. At some point, though, it’s too much and he passes out.

~~~

When Stiles wakes up, he’s coughing again. There’s something on his face, his chest hurts, his head aches, and his throat feels like someone shoved a cheese grater down it. He’s reaches up to pull at whatever is on his face and someone grabs his hand. He looks over and finds his dad, looking haggard.

“What-“ he chokes out, unable to finish because of a coughing fit.

“Hey, kiddo, you’re in a hospital and they’re giving you oxygen, don’t try to pull that off.”

Stiles just looks at his dad when he doesn’t say anything else. He should know better than to think that would be enough information to satisfy Stiles.

His dad sighs. “There was a fire in your cabin. It looks like a freak accident, a faulty fuse, a power surge, and the right conditions. But they said you inhaled a lot of smoke, why didn’t you get out right away?”

“Fell asleep. Door stuck,” Stiles croaks.

“Hmm, well, heat can warp things. I’m so glad you got out. If you- I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you,” his dad says, eyes shining with unshed tears.

“I’m okay,” Stiles says. The coughing spasm that follows kind of undermines his words, though.

“Stiles, I know this will be hard for you, but please stop talking. Just lie there and let yourself heal.”

Stiles opens his mouth to say that he’ll be fine and his dad holds up a finger. Stiles closes his mouth and nods.

~~~

Stiles ends up missing the last few days of school after he has a bad reaction to some pain medication they give him. But he’s finally home, out of the hospital, and able to talk without coughing or pain. He has the whole summer to look forward to. And he has the pack. There’s a pack meeting next week and he’s invited and so is Danny. Scott had visited and told him about how they caught the group of hunters and how they’d confessed to setting everything up, drugging Stiles, and then setting the fire to make his death look accidental to everyone else and to send a message to Derek and his pack. Scott also told him how the group had evidence of the other people they’d killed in their belongings, so the pack and the Argents had restrained them and then called in an anonymous tip that got the group arrested.

Stiles is a little restless. He still gets tired easily, but he feels good. He wants to be out doing something. It’s Friday and there are a lot of end-of-the-year parties going on, but he’d promised his dad that he’d stay home. His dad is at work catching up on all that he missed while spending time with Stiles. Stiles feels bad at how much he’d freaked out his dad, so he’ll keep his promise. Besides, he wants his dad to be on board with him going out tomorrow (Stiles is probably going to call it hanging out with a friend when he tells his dad about it, which is technically true, sort of).

Stiles watches TV for a while, but there’s nothing on he really wants to watch. He goes to the kitchen for something to munch on and looks in fridge, but he can’t find anything in it he wants eat. He then looks in the cabinets. He finally decides on popcorn. He puts a bag in the microwave, turns on the microwave, and waits for it to pop up. When it’s done, he takes it out, that awesome popcorn smell making his mouth water. He opens the bag and eats a couple of (really hot, ow) pieces. He grabs a soda and head upstairs to trawl on the internet.

He goes into his bedroom and jumps in surprise and then he has to juggle keep from dropping everything. He ends up losing the can, and only spilling a few pieces of popcorn. He closes his eyes in exasperation at himself, for a second. When he opens them, Derek, the reason he’d startled, is holding out the can of soda. Stiles sets it and the bag on his desk.

“So, hey, ever think about, I don’t know, say, knocking on the front door? I would let you in, swear.”

“Hmm,” is all Derek says, but he seems amused.

“Wait, is this another thing you find _fun_ , surprising me?”

Derek shrugs.

“You totally do. That’s kind of evil, just so you know. Getting off on, oh wait, um, _enjoying_ , enjoying my fear and embarrassment.”

Derek raises an eyebrow and while he’s not laughing out loud, Stile gets the impression he’s laughing at Stiles in his head.

“Anyway, um, I, uh, wanted to thank you. You know, for literally breaking down the door to save me. It was, well, thanks. And, oh, also you caught the bad guys – yay, Team Wolf!”

Derek’s face goes stony. “I wanted to eviscerate them, tear them limb from limb. I wanted them to _suffer_ , to bleed.”

“Uh, well, that’s, uh, I’m glad you went with the arresting thing instead. Good call.”

Derek grunts.

“So in hopes of distracting you from thinking about it and maybe getting that really scary expression off your face – what are you doing here?”

“I came to see how you were.”

“I am good. Much better. Running at full capacity, or well, maybe, like, ninety-five percent. You could have come to see me in the hospital.”

Derek doesn’t say anything to that, but something about the way he looks at Stiles makes Stiles wonder.

“Did you come and see me?”

“Once. You were very still and quiet. It was… unnerving, wrong.”

“Hey, I can be qui- No, no I can’t, unless I’m asleep or it hurts to talk and sometimes not even then.”

The corner of Derek’s mouth quirks up. It seems almost like an invitation, like a crooked finger. Stiles considers this and decides to go for it. He steps into Derek’s space. He leans forward and gives that corner a soft, closed-mouth kiss. Then he leans back, looking at Derek for his reaction. Derek’s motionless for a second and then he’s reaching forward, cupping Stiles’ face with both hands and drawing him back in. This kiss isn’t closed-mouthed and while it starts out soft, it quickly transforms into something hot and wet and almost desperate.

Stiles ends up against the wall with Derek up against him. Stiles moans, completely involuntarily. Derek pulls his lips away from Stiles’ and mouths down along his jaw to his neck. “Okay, I can totally get behind being shoved into walls if it’s like this,” Stiles says a little breathlessly.

“Hmm,” Derek says against Stiles’ skin, making him shiver. Derek scrapes his teeth lightly over Stiles’ neck, a ghost of a bite.

“Okay, that you should do again. Like, right now.”

Derek does and this time he licks, too. It’s like an electric shock, in a good way, making everything all tingly. Then Derek drops to his knees and Stiles looks down at him, wide-eyed. Derek mouths at his stomach through his shirt and then rucks up his shirt and puts his mouth on the bare skin. Stiles sucks in a shocked breath. Derek pulls his head back and puts his hands on the waistband of Stiles’ pants and then looks up, silently asking permission.

Stiles nods frantically. “Yeah, yes, please, yes.”

Derek unfastens Stiles’ pants and pushes them down. Then he pulls down his underwear and Stiles trembles a little, with desire and nerves, feeling exposed. Derek licks his thumb and then runs it up the underside of Stiles’ hard dick, root to tip, and Stiles almost comes right then. Then Derek uses his tongue to do the same thing. Stiles just starts babbling, telling Derek how awesome he is, how awesome his mouth is, how Derek can do anything he wants with Stiles, to Stiles. And when Derek puts his mouth over the head of Stiles’ dick and sucks, that’s just it for Stiles and he’s coming. He sort of sags against the wall, dazed and spent and a little embarrassed at not being able to hold out for long. Derek pulls his mouth away and licks his lips, which makes Stiles’ dick twitch a bit.

Stiles feel like his brain is offline, but that doesn’t stop his mouth. “Did you want, I could, should I…”

“I’m good.”

“But, I could-“

“Stiles. I’m good,” Derek says again and then looks at Stiles until he gets it.

“Oh.” And Stiles feels oddly proud and maybe a little let down that he didn’t get more… hands-on participation in Derek’s orgasm, but he figures he’ll get his chance next time.

“Yeah.” Derek stands up, helping Stiles get his clothes back in place.

“So, tomorrow. We’re still…”

“Yes.”

“Okay, cool.” They have a date, they’re dating. “What are we doing? Are we actually going out? Or are we staying in? Because either is fine. But I vote for staying in. Unless you want-“

“Stiles, shut up, or I’ll shove you against a wall,” Derek says and there’s definitely a hint of a laugh in his voice.

Stiles smiles and keeps talking.


	14. You Should Probably Just Get Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Prompt](http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/3353.html?thread=2440217#t2440217): Derek/Stiles, accidental stimulation. I'd love something where Stiles and Derek get themselves into a situation where there's a lot of non-sexual physical contact and Stiles can't help but get turned on. He tries to make a joke out of it, rambles about how he's a horny teenager, etc., but it gets even more awkward when Derek gets all turned on too and grumpily tells Stiles to stop squirming. It doesn't work, so Derek gets them off urgently just to calm Stiles down. Like, IDK, Stiles has to sit on Derek's lap (for some reason?) and Derek can tell Stiles is getting all worked up... then Stiles' scent and all the squirming he's doing in Derek's lap makes Derek get all hard against Stiles' ass through their jeans. That's just an example though, it doesn't have to be that exact scenario.

Derek swims up from darkness to a horrible headache and the sound of Stiles’ voice very close to his ear.

“…you have to wake up. Please, please wake up. Why won’t you wake up? Where are your super wolf healing powers. Oh, God, you’d better not be dying. That would be bad because then you’d be dead, which would suck, and I would, oh, God, be in here with a dead body. Derek, wake up,” Stiles say, voice getting more desperate.

Derek grunts.

Stiles reacts enthusiastically. “Oh, oh, you’re awake. Thank God. I thought- never mind. You have to get us out of here.”

It’s only then that Derek becomes aware of the very small space that they’re in. He’d wondered why Stiles was lying on top of him. The flickering light that had been there suddenly disappears with a curse from Stiles. Derek clears his throat. “Where are we?”

The light comes back. Stiles is holding up a lighter. “We’re in a mausoleum, in one of those stone tomb things. And here I thought because you said vampires don’t exist, I wouldn’t have to deal with graveyard shenanigans. But, no, sadly-“

“Stiles.”

“Okay, yeah, um, these guys kind of ambushed us. They hit you on the head and then they dragged us here and stuck us in here. I don’t know where the body that should be in here is.”

That explains Derek’s headache. They must have hit him hard enough to fracture his skull. Werewolf healing can take some time if the injury is serious enough and there’s no adrenaline to help it along. “Who are they? And why did they ambush us?”

“I don’t know, not really. I mean, I saw them last night while I was waiting for you, but I don’t think I’d seen them before that. Anyway, now that you’re awake, you can get us out of here with your super-strength, right?”

“Shh. I can hear voices.”

“So what? They already know we’re here and I doubt they can hear us through this, what is it, marble?”

Derek sighs. “But I can hear them. So, shh.” Derek listens to what the voices are saying. Stiles squirms a little on top of him, distracting him. “Stop that.”

“What’s going on? What are they saying?”

“Did you see them loading something, wait, guns?”

“Guns? I saw them put some crates in a green van at that storage facility across from Mamie’s Diner. It was guns? I didn’t see any guns.”

“Well, they think you did. They think we both did. So, we’re going to stay here until I hear them leave. Then, I will get us out and you can go tell your dad.”

“I can’t tell him I saw guns, he’ll want to know what type.”

“Just say you saw the crates and that they mentioned guns when they took you.”

“And how did I get away? And what if he catches them and they say something about you?”

So frustrating. “Fine, _we’ll_ go tell your dad.”

“Well, you don’t have to sound so exasperated. This isn’t my fault. I didn’t actually see anything and you’re the one who wanted to meet at Mamie’s.”

“Stiles,” Derek growls.

“Okay, Mr. Growly. I was just trying to- Ow, dammit.” The light goes out again.

“Since when do you carry a lighter?”

“One of those guys threw it in here. I don’t know if he was trying to be nice or if he wanted us to get a good look at our final resting place. Are they gone yet?”

“No.”

Stiles shifts a little. Then again. He lights the lighter. “So, um, what’s your favorite color?”

“What?”

“We’re stuck in here and I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but silence and I don’t really get along. I guess I could just talk about anything that comes to mind, like did you know that-“

“Gray.”

“What?”

“Gray.”

“Your favorite color’s gray?” Stiles asks dubiously.

“Something wrong with that?”

“No. It’s not at all the color I think of when I think depressing, nope. I like green.” Stiles squirms again. The light flickers out.

Derek hears the rasp of him trying to light it again. “Leave it.”

“Oh, yeah, nothing like being stuck in a tomb, in the pitch dark.” Stiles shifts his weight, first to one side, then the other.

Derek grabs at his hips. “Will you quit it?” And in rapid succession, Stiles freezes, his heart rate and breathing speed up, and the scent of arousal fills the air as he feels Stiles’ dick go hard against him.

“I, um, don’t, that’s, um- Friction! You know how it is. Can’t always, um, control it. You know, teenager, ha ha, nature’s way of laughing and pointing. This has absolutely nothing to do with you. At all.”

Stiles is lying. Isn’t that interesting? But he keeps squirming, writhing almost, even with the grip Derek has on his hips. And the, yes, friction, and scent and Stiles all begin to affect Derek. He starts to get hard, too. “Stop moving,” he bites out.

“Oh, um, wow, sorry. I wasn’t, I didn’t mean to, uh, get you going.” Stiles moves again like he’s trying to get his weight off Derek. Except he ends up pressing his hips down against Derek’s. Stiles lets out a little moan.

“Stiles!” Derek snarls. He _wants_.

“Oh my God. Don’t kill me. I’m too young to die.”

“Shut up.”

Stiles is making these little abortive thrusts like he can’t help himself. He whimpers a little. And that’s it for Derek. Derek reaches down and works a hand into Stiles’ pants and then his underwear. There’s a little blurt of precome on the tip of his dick and Derek rubs it into his hand and then wraps his hand around Stiles’ dick. Then he jacks him, not roughly, but not all that gently either. Stiles just starts babbling. It doesn’t take much time before Stiles is coming. Stiles goes quiet, he’s completely limp and heavy on top of Derek, his breathing loud in Derek’s ear. Derek pulls his hand out of Stiles’ pants and brings it to his mouth. He licks at it curiously. He’s not really surprised to find that he likes it, given how much he likes Stiles’ scent, but he’s annoyed. Stiles is _sixteen_ and Derek has no business wanting more of this.

Derek listens to make sure there’s nobody outside. He reaches up and shoves against the stone cover until it slides off with a loud crash. Stiles lifts his head and blinks down at him in the dim light coming through the small stained-glass window of the mausoleum. Derek gets them both out of the tomb. They walk out into the bright afternoon daylight outside.

Stiles looks at him. “So, that was kind of…” he trails off like he’s searching for the right word.

Derek waits, sure it will be something like ‘weird’ or ‘awkward’ or even ‘not a good idea’.

“…awesome!”

Derek looks at him in surprise.

“So, yeah, anyway, my dad’s probably still at the station.”

Derek clears his throat. “You might want to change before we go over there.”

Stiles looks down at himself. “Good idea. And hey, maybe, after we talk to my dad, we can try that without pants,” Stiles says and sets off in the direction of his house.

Derek stares after him for a second before hurrying to catch up.


	15. I Could Put It on My To Do List

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Prompt](http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/3353.html?thread=2024729#t2024729): Stiles/Derek/Jackson/Scott/Lydia – moresome. The four wolves all love their Stiles very much and take turns and/or show him at the same time together just how much he means. All the kink there is.

Stiles isn’t sure how it started. It feels like one day he just woke up and it was like this. He knows that can't be true. Knows there was some buildup, but for the life of him, he cannot describe it.

Scott likes to make out. Long sessions of lips against lips until they are puffy and sore. Sometimes Allison participates, sometimes she's just close by.

Jackson has a thing about licking. Stiles doesn't know if it's because he likes the way Stiles tastes or if he just likes licking. They don't talk about it. Jackson doesn't mind if he rambles on about anything else, but he will get up and leave if Stiles tries to talk about them and feelings. Jackson particularly likes to put his mouth and tongue on Stiles' feet. Stiles never knew that someone sucking on your toes could feel like that.

Lydia likes to be watched. She likes Stiles to watch her bring herself off with her fingers or the occasional toy. This, she's okay with, this, she likes. Stiles is pretty sure she hasn't let anyone touch her, even casually, since she woke up. Except for when she's fighting. She's vicious and glorious then, striking hard and fast and first. She wins a lot. And sometimes when they're alone, when Stiles is watching her, sometimes he finds her watching him back with soft eyes.

Derek doesn't do anything. Not for the longest time. Stiles had just assumed that whatever was going on with the others, whatever reason they'd had for wanting to be with Stiles, it didn't apply to Derek. Until the day that Derek pulls him away from their big pack pile (Lydia is never a part of the pile, but she's nearby) and upstairs to his bedroom. There, he pushes Stiles down on the bed and strips out of his clothes while Stiles watches, open-mouthed. Stiles is just getting his brain in gear when Derek comes over and efficiently undresses him. Stiles wants to ask what or why or even why now, but Derek is kissing him. It's not hesitant or tentative or soft. It's not anything like a first kiss is supposed to be.

Derek's grabbing something, a tube, out of the night stand drawer and slicking up his fingers. And Stiles feels like he should say something, maybe slow things down so he can savor this. But then Derek's got a finger in him, opening him up, pushing these little noises out of Stiles and Stiles doesn't want to slow down, he wants to go faster. Stiles pushes back, saying how much he wants this and how Derek needs to hurry up. And Derek does, stretching and hard and fast and then his dick is inside Stiles and it's almost too much. It hurts a little, burns, but mostly, he just feels too full. Derek starts to thrust and it's both better and worse. He tilts Stiles hips up a bit and thrusts and Stiles shudders because he bumps right over a spot that makes Stiles feel lit up inside (prostate, his brain supplies). Stiles knows he's talking (and whining and moaning and maybe even crying a little), saying things he really shouldn't. It takes a while for Stiles to realise that Derek's saying something, too. He's telling Stiles how long he's waited and how much he's wanted him and it's that that sends Stiles over the edge.

Later, when he's back in the pack pile, surrounded by Derek, Scott, Allison, and Jackson with Lydia looking on fondly, he wonders if there is anyone out there who feels as wanted, as _cherished_ as he does.


	16. Do You Find Me Attractive?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Prompt](http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/3353.html?thread=2243353#t2243353): Derek/Stiles. Good Wife AU where Stiles is a first year ASA, Derek is an investigator, and Peter Hale is the District Attorney.

Stiles gets into his tiny office and closes the door and then locks it. He collapses into his chair and puts his head on his desk and wonders how this is his life. He'd come back to LA after law school, thinking everything would be awesome (even with the whole Peter scandal). He and Scott could hang out, he could be close to his dad, and he could get a good job with a good firm. 

Things had been weird right out of the gate. At first, he’d thought everything was cool, getting hired by Argent, Harris and Finstock. Except Harris had been really tough on him and Finstock had just been strange. Then, Mrs. McCall, Scott's _mom_ , Peter's (estranged?) wife had started working there (Stiles had known she had a law degree, but she'd quit practicing after marrying Peter, when Scott and Stiles were ten). And then there was Derek, taciturn, leather-wearing Derek, the resident investigator. Stiles had sort of known him before, as Peter's nephew. Peter had made an effort to include his stepson and even his stepson's friend when his family had visited. Derek was older, though, and had never hung out much with Scott and Stiles. 

Anyway, Mrs. McCall, Melissa, had been awkward around him for some reason. Derek, on the other hand, had been hot and brooding and watchful and secretive. Then Scott had started dating Allison Argent and things had gotten exponentially weirder. And then Peter had gotten out of jail and started campaigning. Even so, Stiles'd thought things were working, he'd thought the partners had liked him, but when it came down to it, they'd chosen Melissa for a permanent position and left Stiles scrambling for somewhere to work.

Peter had won his campaign and offered Stiles a job in the State’s Attorney's office. Stiles had been grateful. It was hard work and he'd gone up against Argent, Harris and Finstock way too much, but he'd felt like he was doing good. And somehow, he'd had even more contact with Derek. Derek, who was really good at getting inside his space and under his skin. Derek, who did that almost flirting thing that put Stiles on edge, wondering if he really meant anything by it or if he was just trying to manipulate Stiles.

Now, Stiles has no idea what to do. He had finally found out why Melissa had been so awkward around him. Apparently, one of the two, uh, escorts that Peter had cheated on her with could have been Stiles’ doppelganger (the other one, the one that everyone knew about, the one all over the news was blonde and female). So, obviously, he can't keep working for Peter - can he? Someone clears their throat and he startles backward, lifting his head from his desk. Derek's sitting in the chair in front of his desk, just looking at him.

“I know I locked that door,” Stiles says after a second.

“Must not have latched,” Derek replies expressionlessly.

“Sure, yeah, that’s it. What do you need?”

“The witness statements for the Cadron case.”

“Fine.” Stiles digs through his paperwork, finds the file, checks it, and hands it over.

“That was easy. No witty banter?” Derek asks sardonically.

“Not today.”

“What’s wrong?”

“What difference does it make?” Stiles asks tiredly.

Derek narrows his eyes and leans forward. “Stiles, are you okay?”

“I’m always okay. But you’re going to have to find yourself a new patsy here. Crap, I haven’t even paid off a quarter of my student loans. Maybe I could move in with my dad. They offered him a place in a sheriff’s office in a small town up north. I could go with him, do patent law or real estate, something.”

Derek looks almost concerned - it must be a trick of the light. “Are you getting laid off?”

“Laid… off. No.”

“So what’s going on? And you’re not a patsy.”

“Liar, liar, pants on fire. I am and mostly I’m okay with it because your end goal is usually the truth, which is important and should be known. Mostly.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I think I have to resign.”

“Why?”

“Did you know about Peter’s- You know what? I don’t actually want to know. If you don’t know, then I don’t want you to. And if you did know and you didn’t tell me… I might have to hate you and I might even have to hate myself for thinking we might ever, someday, be… I don’t want to hate you. Or myself.”

Derek looks troubled. “Stiles…”

“You got what you came for. You should go.”

Derek gets up and opens the door. He looks back like he wants to say something.

“Just go,” Stiles says wearily.

~~~

Stiles is wandering around his apartment, his suit jacket and tie off, his shirt untucked and unbuttoned, his feet bare. It’s a small place, but nice. It’s cluttered, but not messy, and it feels like Stiles. He pours himself a glass of rum (he feels like it should be whiskey, like that’s a proper lawyer-like drink, but he’d never really gotten to like the taste – maybe that’s a sign or maybe he’s just being maudlin).

There’s a knock at the door. He looks through the peephole and it’s Derek. Stiles opens the door, confused. Derek’s never been to his apartment before. 

“Hey,” Stiles says, off-balance.

Derek comes in and closes the door behind him. “You’re going to get a call in a minute. Don’t dismiss it, just think about it.”

“What?”

His phone rings and he answers it, still looking at Derek in bewilderment. “Hello?”

“Hello, Stiles. Chris Argent here. Derek tells me that you’re thinking about moving on from the State’s Attorney’s.”

“I guess you could say that.”

“Well, I’d like you to think about coming back to work for us.”

It’s so out of left field, Stiles is speechless.

“Stiles?”

“I, I’m here. I don’t know if that’s-“

“Just hear me out. Come by my office tomorrow, say, around six, and we can talk about it. You know we really did want to give you an offer after your time here – it was just economics… and politics. You’ve done some first-rate work and we’d like you to work here. What do you say?”

Stiles studies Derek, thinking about what he’d said. “I’ll see you tomorrow. We’ll talk.”

“Excellent. Six, then.”

“Six. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.”

Stiles ends the call and tosses his phone on the coffee table. “What exactly did you do to prompt that call?”

“All I did was mention to Chris that you were thinking of leaving Peter’s employ.”

“Why?”

Derek changes the subject. “I didn’t know. About Peter. About his… preferences. Did he, he never-“

Stiles groans. “No! No. And I told you I didn’t want you to know if you didn’t.”

“Investigator. You gave me a mystery, so…”

“You had to solve it. I should have known.” Stiles sits down on the couch and sips at his rum, staring moodily at the wall. Then he remembers his manners, “You want some?” he asks tilting his glass to indicate the rum.

“Sure.”

Before Stiles can get up and pour him a glass, Derek sits down, right next to him, and takes his glass. He sips at the rum and then sets it down on the coffee table. He stays there, right up close to Stiles. Stiles feels a little breathless. “So, um, like I was asking before, why did you talk to Chris?”

“I didn’t want you to go.”

“I’m sure that there are hundreds, thousands of other people you could do this little dance with.”

“I want to do it with you.”

“Why?” That comes out a lot more plaintively than he’d intended.

“I like you,” Derek says reluctantly, like the words are being dragged from him.

“As a friendly rival or a source of information, right? Because if you were attracted to me, you would have said yes when I asked you out or you would have taken one of the many, many openings I’ve given you to ask me out.”

Derek sighs. “I have an ex. She’s… not right. She tried to burn down my family’s house with my family in it and then she vanished.”

Stiles is horrified. “She what?”

“It took me a long time to try dating again after that. And when I did, she showed up again and attacked the person I was seeing, put him in the hospital, and then she disappeared again.”

“So this ex of yours, she’s still out there? This…”

“Kate. Argent.”

“Argent?”

“Chris’ sister.”

“Holy God. We are an incestuous bunch, aren’t we? You are Peter’s nephew and you work for Chris, who also employs Peter’s wife, whose son is dating Chris’ daughter. And I was working for Chris and then Peter and now maybe Chris again. We might do well to develop some outside interests.”

The corner of Derek’s mouth quirks up. “Maybe.”

“So, you haven’t been dating because you’re afraid Kate will suddenly appear and do something horrible. Which is not an unfounded fear.”

“Yes.”

“I get that, I do. But you can’t let her dictate your life.”

“I don’t want… people hurt because of me.”

“It’s not your fault. And _people_ might think you’re worth the risk.”

“If she comes back…”

“We’ll make sure we’re ready for her. Make sure she gets caught, gets help.”

“ _We_ , huh?”

“Yeah, _we_. If, if you want that. If you want me,” Stiles says, feeling intensely vulnerable.

Derek’s silent for so long Stiles is sure he’s going to say no, He braces himself for it, sick with disappointment. But then Derek’s hand is on Stiles’ face, pulling him into a kiss. It’s sweet, chaste almost and then there’s a hint of a bite. Derek’s pulls back a little, rests his forehead against Stiles’ and says, “I want.”


	17. You’re Not Going to Get One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Prompt](http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/3353.html?thread=2129433#t2129433): Derek/Stiles, Stiles tortured in front of Derek by Kate. So, during that torture scene in 1x11 (oh my gosh my heart strings, they were tugged!) what if Kate realized she needed leverage on Derek? She knows he's the sort to get attached, even after all that happened - maybe even moreso - so she calls Chris up and asks him if he knows any of the kids around. (Chris of course has no idea what Kate is doing) and he rattles off Stiles's name. Kate goes to get him and threatens bodily danger in front of Derek. Maybe she even touches on the sexual aspect and touches Stiles or something? I dunno. I don't really know what I want out of this, but I liked the idea? Probably Derek breaks free with ~*power he never knew he had*~! Or something. Established relationship or not, but I'd love to just hear Derek's thoughts - you know he'd blame himself and stuff. Anyway, just figured I'd throw this idea out to the masses!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AU of episode 1x11 (Formality).

“Okay, look, I’m not really sure what’s going on, um, Allison’s Aunt, but I’m not really into the whole bondage thing and Derek doesn’t look too happy, either. So, maybe you could, I don’t know, find some other guys for this and let us-“ Stiles is cut off when Kate backhands him viciously across the face. He turns his face back to her and glares. “Ow!” he says really reproachfully.

Derek almost smiles. Stiles is just so… irrepressible. Even sitting in a chair, hands tied behind his back, ankles tied to the chair legs, less than ten feet from where Derek is chained up. Derek doesn’t know how Kate knew. He doesn’t want _anyone_ hurt because of him. But he actually cares, in particular, about Stiles.

“Oh, honey, that was just a love tap,” Kate says with a shark-like grin.

“Wow, that’s a whole lot of messed up in just one sentence. Did you practice it? Or does it just come naturally?” Stiles asks disparagingly.

Kate gets behind him and takes ahold of Stiles’ chin in her hand. He winces as her nails dig in. She studies Derek as she talks to Stiles, “You are a talkative one, aren’t you? I wonder why Derek likes you – he really isn’t much for words. Not that it matters. Now, _Stiles_ , why on earth are you friends with a werewolf? Or, hmm, maybe you’re something other than friends?” Kate asks, insinuation heavy in her voice.

Stiles’ eyes widen and his heart skips a beat. “W-werewolf? What?”

Kate lets go of his chin and comes back around to look Stiles in the face. “Oh, not bad. I almost believed you didn’t know. You’re better than your friend Scott.”

“Look, lady, you know my dad’s the sheriff, right? He’s pretty good at it, too. He will find me.”

“Oh, yeah, he’s good at figuring things out, is he? So, he knows you hang out with Derek Hale, then.”

Stiles just looks at her, his face gone solemn.

“Aw, what’s with the look? And where’s the smart remark?” Kate asks tauntingly.

“I don’t want to die,” Stiles says seriously.

“Who said anything about killing you?”

“What’s your end game here, then? Kidnap me, knock me around, and let me go?”

“Pretty much. It’s not like anyone is going to believe you if you tell them this wild story. Not even your dad,” Kate says, moving away.

The look on Stiles’ face tells Derek that she’s wrong about that. It also tells him that Stiles is beginning to understand just how irrational she can be. They stare at each other.

Kate comes back holding a lacrosse stick. She studies it for a second and then, without warning, she slams it into Stiles’ ribs. His breath whooshes out and he tries to double over, but can’t, not with the way he’s tied up. Derek starts forward instinctively, stopped only by his chains. Kate turns at the sound and smiles at him vindictively. She turns back to Stiles and says, “I heard that you play. You should be used to that.”

Stiles looks at her incredulously. “Used to having people deliberately hit me?” Then he pauses, tilts his head and says, “Okay, so it happens, sometimes, because Jackson’s a douche. But I’m not _tied to a chair_ when he tries.”

“Well, I bet he’d like it – you’re so pretty like this.”

Stiles looks like he can’t quite decide how to react to that.

Kate hits him again, across the knees. Stiles lets out a strangled yelp. Derek yanks at his chains, feeling helpless. Kate takes a swing at Stiles’ right arm and then goes around and does the same to his left. Stiles is biting his lips, but a small whimper escapes. Kate studies him and hits him across the chest again. Stiles cries out.

“Stop!” Derek yells.

Kate turns toward him interestedly and asks, “Are you ready to tell me everything I want to know?”

Derek licks his lips, ready to say yes, but Stiles catches his eye and shakes his head no. Kate looks at him and then back at Derek, eyes narrowed. She goes over and rests the stick against the wall. Then she comes back over to Stiles, walking behind the chair. She crouches down, her mouth right next to Stiles’ ear, and says, “You know, you didn’t answer my question earlier. About you and Derek. About being friends… or something else. I wouldn’t blame you. I mean, look at him. Tell you a secret - he and I, we used to have a little something going on, did you know that?”

Stiles looks at Derek, eyebrows raised. Derek feels uncomfortable, exposed. He had been so stupid, so gullible, so easy for her to manipulate.

Kate runs a finger along the side of Stiles’ neck. “I wouldn’t blame him, either. You’re very cute, yourself. Not quite the same puppy-dog adorableness of your friend Scott, but you’ve got a charm all your own.”

“That’s me, Prince Charming,” Stiles snarks, a thread of uneasiness running through his voice.

“Yes.” Now, Kate’s actually stroking his neck. Stiles looks alarmed. He’s been fairly good at controlling his fear (a talent of his), but this seems to be hitting his panic button. Which sets off Derek’s own panic response. He has to work hard not to let it show. Not to let Kate see. He can’t understand how she can justify this to herself. She thinks Derek is a monster, that’s why she’s got _him_ here. How can she hurt someone innocent just to get to him?

“Leave him alone,” Derek says as calmly as he can.

“Jealous? Don’t worry, baby, I still think you’re tasty. But there’s nothing wrong with a little variety, is there? Stiles doesn’t mind,” Kate says with a smile.

“Uh, yes, Stiles does mind,” Stiles says emphatically.

The smile drops off her face and her eyes go hard. “Come on, you’re a teenage boy, a mess of hormones. Derek was like that. Don’t you want to get off?”

“Not with you,” Stiles says.

“Oh, am I not your type? Do you go for tall, dark, and brooding?”

“Yes, that’s exactly it – you aren’t my type. Sadly, sadistic and unbalanced is not what I’m looking for,” Stiles says sarcastically.

“Oh, I think you might like me if you gave me a chance,” Kate says, an edge to her voice. She stands and leans over him, sliding a hand down his chest to the waistband of his pants.

Stiles tenses and snaps, “No means no.”

“Does it really?” She works her hand into his pants.

“Stop. Please, just don’t.”

“Playing hard to get, huh?” She pulls her hand out and then comes around in front of the chair and kneels down. “We can certainly fix that.” She unfastens his pants.

Stiles closes his eyes and struggles against his bonds. Derek’s losing his grip on his control and his wolf is straining to be let out. Derek gathers his strength and lets it come. He transforms and pulls hard at the chains. The metal groans and then breaks and he charges forward, heedless of the wires and any damage he might cause himself. He grabs Kate and throws her against the wall. Her head slams into it and she goes down, unconscious. He moves toward her.

“Wait,” Stiles says.

Derek turns to Stiles. Stiles looks at him a little warily, so he lets the wolf recede.

Stiles jerks at the ropes, “Could you…”

Derek unties him and Stiles slumps forward. Derek hovers near him, not sure what to do or say. “Are you… Do you…”

Stiles sits up, clenching and unclenching his fingers. He shakily refastens his pants, blushing. He slowly gets up, wincing. He almost pitches forward. Derek catches him by the arms. Stiles flinches. Derek makes sure he’s steady on his feet and then releases him.

Stiles darts a quick look at him. “Are you okay?”

“Am _I_ okay?” Derek asks, surprised.

“She had me for, like, an hour. I don’t know how long you’ve been here.”

“I’ve already mostly healed.”

“That’s not really what I- Okay.”

“What do you want to do?”

Stiles gives him a questioning look.

“Do you want to tell your father? Get her arrested?”

“Yes, no, I don’t know.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“I, maybe. It’s just, it’s a small town. If I do, everyone will know. I don’t want to be known for that.”

Derek nods.

“Should we, like, tie her- Hey, where did she go?”

Derek looks over and Kate is gone. He’d been focused so completely on Stiles, he hadn’t noticed.

“Let’s just, let’s just get out of here,” Stiles says with a grimace.

~~~

They end up at Stiles’ house. Stiles is having a lot of trouble moving. Derek wonders how bad the bruising is (he’s relatively sure nothing is broken, but maybe he should have tried to get Stiles to go to the hospital anyway). There’s already a rapidly darkening bruise along his cheekbone where Kate backhanded him. 

Stiles sits gingerly down on the couch. “You can borrow a shirt if you want.”

Derek looks down at his bare chest under the jacket he’d found in his car (and he’s glad the hunters hadn’t found his car because walking back wouldn’t have been good). He nods and heads upstairs. He finds one of Stiles’ more stretched-out shirts, takes off his jacket, and puts on the shirt. Then he takes a minute, in Stiles’ room. Stiles’ scent surrounds him. Derek’s gotten a little too used to that scent, a little too comfortable with it. He seeks it out, wants it to be around. He heads back downstairs. Stiles is sitting there, staring off into the distance.

“I’m sorry,” Derek says.

“What?” Stiles asks, shaking himself out of his stupor.

“She never would have taken you if she hadn’t been trying to get to me. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t. You are only responsible your own actions, not anyone else’s. You could apologize for bashing my head against my steering wheel, but then I’d have to apologize for using you’re… you to get Danny to help. You could apologize for threatening me and pushing me up against walls, but then I’d probably have to apologize for accusing you of heinous crimes. Let’s just… not.”

“I feel bad about what happened to you.”

“That’s fine, that’s normal. To feel bad about a friend being hurt. I feel bad about you. You can be sorry that it happened to me, but not because you think it’s your fault.”

“Friend?”

“Kind of. I mean, we’re not _not_ friends. You scare the crap out of me sometimes and I don’t understand your motives for some stuff, but Scott said you would help him and I think he’s right. You didn’t tell _her_ about him. And you stopped… got me out of there.”

Something in Derek settles at that and he covets it. “You get under my skin,” he offers in explanation for the behavior that scares Stiles. And then he thinks about how that sounds and tries to soften it, “But you aren’t as irritating as Scott.”

“Wow, was that a ‘yes, I would like to be friends’ in Derek-speak?”

Derek gives a him a sharp nod, a little exasperated with himself. He sits down on the couch next to Stiles. He studies the bruise on his face and asks, “What are you going to tell your father about that?”

“About being friends?”

“No, about that,” Derek says and points at Stiles’ cheek.

Stiles gives him an uncomprehending look.

Derek reaches out slowly, not wanting to spook Stiles, and gently brushes his thumb along the bruised cheekbone before letting his hand drop.

Stiles blinks at him and reaches up to touch at it himself. “Oh. Um, I don’t know. Maybe that some messed up woman attacked me. Or maybe just that I took a hit – he’ll assume I meant during practice.”

“When will he be home?”

“I’m not sure. Max just had a new kid and Sean is on medical leave.”

Derek looks at Stiles in confusion, not sure who these people are or what they have to do with the sheriff being home.

“Max and Sean are a couple of Dad’s deputies, so they’re short-staffed right now. Actually, with the budget and personnel issues, they’re extra short-staffed. They should really- And, you don’t care about this at all and I should stop talking, shouldn’t I?”

Derek just shrugs because it’s kind of Stiles’ default to be talking, it sort of feels… right when he is. So, he half listens as Stiles talks about the sheriff’s department’s attrition and budget approval. After a while, though, when Stiles has moved onto blue laws, Derek breaks in with, “You look tired.”

Stiles goes quiet for a long moment and then says, “I’m not really sure I want to close my eyes.”

“I’ll stay until your dad gets home.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I’ll stay.”

Eventually, Stiles gets up and stiffly makes his way upstairs. Derek follows. Stiles gets ready for bed and Derek catches a glimpse of the bruising on his chest as he changes. It makes him angry, makes him want to snarl and rage, but he keeps it off his face. It takes some time for Stiles to actually settle down into sleep.

Derek watches over Stiles. He thinks about killing Kate. She’s not going to stop coming after him. He doesn’t know if he could hunt her down and kill her – for all that she thinks _he’s_ the monster, he’s never done anything like that. If it comes down to a fight, that he can do. But, no matter what happens, he can’t let her get to Stiles again. Derek has to protect him, keep him safe. And it feels like something slides into place at that. His wolf rumbles in agreement and satisfaction. _Pack._ And maybe, someday, he can let Stiles know how he feels. And maybe, if he’s lucky, Stiles will take everything he has to offer.


	18. I’ll Be Back Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Prompt](http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/3353.html?thread=2489113#t2489113): Derek/Stiles. Stiles is Fae. Either he's known it from birth or was a changeling? Stolen by humans? He can do magic? Doesn't know 'til one of the wolves say his scent is off? Run with it anons.

Stiles’ mom tells him stories about the fair folk. Sometimes they’re funny, sometimes they’re weird, sometimes they’re sad, but they’re always fascinating. Stiles’ favorite is the one where the playful fairy princess, who has long, flowing dark hair and hazel eyes that mostly look the color of warm honey and sometimes, in some lights, the color of olives, falls in love with the brave human ranger, who has bright gold hair and eyes the color of a sparkling bay. It’s a little sad because the princess can never go back to her people, but mostly it’s happy because she loves her ranger and their little dark-haired boy, who has hazel eyes that mostly look the color of warm honey and sometimes, in some lights, the color of olives, and she loves their life together.

And on Midsummer’s Eve, they have a picnic out in the yard, late, once it gets dark. His dad sets up the tiny, white fairy lights. His mom cooks all kinds of wonderful things. They tell silly stories and jokes. They laugh and they eat and sometimes his mom gets up and dances around the yard.

After she dies, Stiles can’t think about the stories. He doesn’t forget them, he just tucks them away in his head, to wait for a day when it doesn’t hurt to think of them. They don’t do the picnics on Midsummer’s Eve anymore. Neither he nor his dad feel like eating. But Stiles will still go outside and softly say the blessing his mom always ended the night with.

~~~

When all the werewolf stuff comes up, Stiles idly wonders about fairies. Then he doesn’t really have time to wonder, what with trying to keep Scott from getting hurt or hurting anyone else. After everything calms down, well, werewolf stuff is never really _calm_ , so when things are not so chaotic, as time wears on, Stiles starts to notice some odd occurrences. Some of his things seem to keep rearranging themselves. A keychain, a t-shirt, and a DVD he’d thought he’d lost turn up again. He could swear that out in the woods, when he’s all alone, he can hear laughing. And he catches Scott and Jackson and even Derek giving him these looks that range from concerned to confused to suspicious. He puts it down to stress (hanging out with werewolves is stressful, okay?). That is, until he wakes up in the middle of the woods after going to sleep in his bed and then he starts to think everything might be some sort of prank or pack initiation. Except when he confronts Derek about it, he gets the I-can’t-believe-this-is-my-life-what-have-I-done-to-deserve-being-saddled-with-this-pack? look (Derek may not be much for words, but his expressions are… expressive). So, Stiles is back to the stress theory with some bonus sleepwalking thrown in.

By the time the summer solstice is near, Stiles is convinced he’s headed for a full-bore mental breakdown. He knows everyone is worried – his dad’s spending more time with him, Scott and Allison try to include him any time they go out, Jackson stops making snide remarks, Lydia gives him her full attention when he’s around, and Derek doesn’t threaten or even growl at him. Stiles is so distracted and flighty that he can’t finish thoughts, he forgets what he’s doing in the middle of doing it (he walks around for hours one day with only one shoe because he keeps forgetting to put the other one on), he walks into walls and doors and furniture and trees.

He decides he may as well do it in style and plans to actually celebrate Midsummer’s Eve again. He roots out the fairy lights (it takes a while, the closet is filled with such bizarrely interesting stuff). He cooks (this takes a lot of forced concentration, but he works hard at it and only a couple of things get burned). He sets everything up in the yard. His dad gets called into the station and Stiles tells him to go, that it’s okay. He does go, but not before giving Stiles an extra-long hug and a kiss on the top of the head, like he used to do when Stiles was little.

When the sun goes down, Stiles turns on the lights and eats and tells his mom everything as if she’s still there. It still doesn’t feel right without her, but it’s not so bad. Then he hears something, it’s like there’s some kind of music playing in the distance, so he gets up and waltzes around the yard, feeling closer to his mom than he has for a long time. He stops as the music fades away. That’s when he notices Derek, standing silently, not far from the edge of the yard, watching. Stiles lifts his chin, refusing to be embarrassed, and says the blessing. He packs up the food and blankets, turns out the lights, and goes inside, Derek watching the whole time. Stiles puts everything away and then heads up to bed. He falls asleep to the memory of his mother dancing.

~~~

When Stiles wakes up in the morning, he feels different. He feels complete somehow, more… _real_. He gets dressed and goes downstairs. He goes to the kitchen to get something to eat. There’s lots of leftovers from last night, but all the cooking he’d done had kind of used up their staples. He decides to go grocery shopping after he eats. He makes a chicken sandwich with leftover fried chicken and follows it with one of the little cakes he’d made. After he’s done, he grabs his keys and goes outside.

Stiles heads toward his Jeep, but stops short when he catches sight of Derek, standing in the same place as he was last night. He’s not sure if he wants to know if Derek had stayed there all night. He detours over to Derek.

“Any particular reason you’re staking out my house?” Stiles asks.

Derek ignores the question and asks one of his own, “What was that you said last night? Before you went in.”

Stiles debates not answering, but decides that he doesn’t care if Derek thinks it’s silly. “A blessing for the fair folk.”

Derek doesn’t look like he thinks it’s silly. He doesn’t look at all surprised, either. He studies Stiles and then says abruptly, “Your scent changed.”

Stiles could swear that Derek enjoys being confusing. “What?”

“Your scent changed. It’s been… fluctuating. But now, it’s changed.”

Now Stiles understands what all those looks from the werewolves had been about. “What has it changed to?”

“Something different.”

“Yeah, I’d actually guessed that.”

“There’s something other in your scent now.”

“Other?”

“Something not human.”

“Not human? Does that mean-“ Stiles stops, uncertain about asking. He licks his lips and then forges ahead, “Do fairies exist?”

“There are legends. My grandmother said they did, but one of my great uncles said they were a myth. My parents believed in the possibility, even if they never met any that I know of.”

“I think, I think that my mother was one,” Stiles says and it feels true as he says it. “I think maybe I- I think I might be more like her than not.”

Derek slowly nods.

~~~

Nothing much changes. Well, no, that’s not true. There are a lot of little changes, but the big, important stuff is the same. He’s still looking after his dad and Scott and there’s still werewolf pack stuff. Jackson and Scott are a little weird around him at first (he figures it’s the scent thing), but Lydia takes it in stride. Derek seems to always be around, watching him, but then he’s always been something of a lurker. 

Stiles doesn’t feel anywhere near as scattered as before – he can actually focus again. Different things distract him now, though. He can spend hours out in the woods, listening to the wind rustling through the leaves (he doesn’t want to call it communing with nature, but he can’t think of another way to describe it).

He does discover a talent for finding things that were lost or hidden, which, he has to say, is damn useful. Even though he’s sure that’s connected to the whole fairy thing, he doesn’t really talk about it (he tries to find out if his dad knew about his mom, but the conversation takes so many strange twists and turns that it ends up with his dad highly confused and reassuring Stiles that Stiles is really his kid and that he loves him no matter what, so there’s that).

Stiles starts to get used to Derek’s watching and lurking and then Derek changes it up. Derek’s never been shy about getting up in someone’s space, but it’s usually as some form of intimidation (it _really_ works). Now Derek’s getting up close and personal with Stiles without the grabbing or the shoving or the looming. He stands at Stiles’ back, close enough Stiles can feel his body heat and his breath at the back of Stiles’ neck. Derek puts a guiding hand on Stiles’ shoulder or back when he needs him somewhere. He always take the seat next to Stiles, moving in close so that their arms are brushing. Then, of course, there’s the sniffing, or _scenting_ , Stiles guesses. Whenever Derek gets close enough, he breathes Stiles in. Stiles finds it all very annoying. Annoying because it excites him. It excites him because it’s Derek. And Derek is… complicated, and interesting, and… so, so attractive. And he’s sure Derek can smell it on him, even if he hasn’t brought it up. It’s annoying, but Stiles doesn’t do anything to stop it – he doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t move away from Derek. In fact, it’s possible he leans in when Derek gets near. Which is just because Stiles sometimes gets cold and Derek is warm, even if is an unusually hot summer.

So, everything goes along. Until another pack shows up. Then there’s these little clashes, like the other pack is testing them, which lead to strategy planning sessions because they can all feel it building to something. And, finally, there’s a big showdown. Stiles ends up backed up against a tree surrounded by three wolfed-out members of the other pack. He hopes everyone in his pack is okay, but he can’t believe it’s true because they would be there if they could. Stiles meets the eyes of the werewolf who seems to be in charge and stands up straight and juts his chin out defiantly. The werewolf leaps at him. Stiles closes his eyes. And nothing.

Stiles opens his eyes and he’s in his bedroom. His heart’s still pounding and adrenaline is making shaky. He looks all around the room, turns himself completely around, wondering what the hell had happened.

His dad walks by the open door of his room and backtracks and leans against the doorway. “When did you get in? I was just going to call you.”

“Uh… just now.”

“Stiles, I know you like running around with your little friends, but the last few days you’ve been gone so much I’ve barely seen you. It would be nice to see you more than just in passing. That said, unfortunately, I have to go in now.”

Stiles blinks and wills his brain to snap out of it’s bewildered daze. “Yeah, Dad. Maybe we can do something on Sunday. Go fishing, maybe?”

“You always scare the fish.”

“You hate cleaning them anyway.”

“Yeah, okay, let’s go fishing and not catch any fish,” his dad says with a smile.

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Okay, be good.”

“Always. And, _little_ friends, really Dad?”

His dad’s smile goes lop-sided and fond. “You’ll always be my little boy.”

“Dad!” Stiles protests, even though it gives him a warm feeling inside.

His dad laughs.

“Love you,” Stiles says, fast and a little awkward.

“Love you, too, son.”

His dad leaves and Stiles gets out his phone. He calls everyone, nobody picks up, so he leaves messages. Stiles chews his lip, trying to decide what to do. Should he stay here and wait or try to go find his pack? The other pack is still out there and he doesn’t want to run into any of them and his Jeep’s over at Derek’s house. Maybe he could do whatever he did before and transport himself back. Except he has no idea how he did it and he’s not sure going back to the same place would be a good idea. Maybe he could go somewhere else. It would be the coolest thing ever if he could control it, but Stiles could never be that lucky. He closes his eyes and, well, thinks really hard. After a few minutes of nothing happening, he opens his eyes and jumps back, startled, from Derek, who is _right there_. Stiles trips and loses his balance. Derek, grabs ahold of his arm and keeps him from falling.

“Holy God, why must you do that? Just appear out of nowhere? Make some damn noise,” Stiles says.

“Your scent just disappeared,” Derek says starkly.

“Yeah, I- Wait, is everyone okay? What happened with the other pack? Where is everyone? Why didn’t anyone answer their phones? Did-“

“Scott and Jackson got hurt, but they’ll be fine. We chased the other pack away. The Argents and their… associates are following up. Scott and Jackson are being patched up by Dr. Deaton, Allison and Lydia are looking after them. I was coming after you and _your scent disappeared_ ,” Derek says, his voice getting sharper with each sentence.

“Yeah, about that, I was kind of surrounded by some of the other pack and one of the leapt at me and I-“

“Leapt at?” Derek snarls, his eyes flashing red, and he’s suddenly in Stiles’ space, hands everywhere, checking Stiles for injury. 

Stiles stares at him, eyes wide. “Uh, yeah, but I’m fine, I’m good. I closed my eyes and when I opened them I was here.”

“You were here.”

“Yeah, it just... happened.”

“You _apparated_?”

“You’ve read Harry Potter?”

Derek rolls his eyes. He looks at Stiles for a long minute and then takes off his jacket and shoes. He looks expectantly at Stiles, but when Stiles just looks back at him, he strips Stiles out of his jacket and catches Stiles’ gaze and then looks at Stiles’ feet until he gets the message and toes out of his shoes. Derek nudges Stiles over to the bed and then down on it, climbing on after him. Derek arranges them so that they’re on their sides, facing each other. He wraps himself around Stiles and tucks his nose against Stiles’ neck and just breathes. 

Stiles lets it go on for a while without saying anything. But then the fact that Derek is surrounding him starts to get to him. Stiles starts to talk to distract himself and Derek. “So, um, I was trying to do it again when you did your own little magical appearance thing. Hey, maybe you’ve got some fairy blood yourself. Heh, maybe your grandmother knew there were fairies because-“

“Stiles.”

“I’m just saying that, you know, it’s possible that one of your ancestors might have gotten it on with a fairy. You can’t really blame them, I mean, after all, there’s me and-“

Derek is kissing him then.

It’s not that Stiles objects to kissing, especially if it involves both him and Derek and them kissing each other. And it’s possibly the best way of shutting him up that Derek’s come up with to date. It’s just, he needs to know why. So he pushes Derek away, but not that far, their lips are almost still touching. “Wait, wait, stop.”

“What?”

“I need to know if this is because of the whole fairy thing. Because you didn’t seem all that interested before.”

“It has something to do with it, but not really.”

“What does that mean?”

“You were… off before. Not, not whole, not finished,” Derek breaks off with a grimace like that’s not really the word he was looking for. He takes a deep breath and says, “You weren’t who you were supposed to be yet.”

“Oh, that’s- Oh. Were you waiting? For me to get there, here?”

Derek gives a single nod.

“Well, then, that’s alright then. In fact, that’s kind of nice. And, just for the record, I kind of really like you, too. Also, if you wanted to stop me from talking like you did before, I would totally be down with-“

Derek kisses him again and Stiles doesn’t speak again for a long while.

And then Stiles has another favorite story about the fair folk and this one is his to tell. It’s the one about the wayward fairy-human hybrid, who has dark hair and hazel eyes that mostly look the color of warm honey and sometimes, in some lights, the color of olives, who falls in love with a gruff werewolf king, who has coal dark hair and eyes the color of green sea-glass with hints of the colors of the sky and the earth. And even though the fairy-human can transport himself to safety when in danger and the werewolf heals very quickly, they still worry about each other and have to share space with each other after battles great and small.


	19. Out Come the Fangs and the Claws

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Prompt](http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/4407.html?thread=2593079#t2593079) by [](http://charlie_jae.livejournal.com/profile)[**charlie_jae**](http://charlie_jae.livejournal.com/): pre-Derek/Stiles, Sheriff, Pack, HC. I'm assuming that with all the crap Stiles has taken the fall for so far, the Sheriff makes a last resort (assuming Stiles told him all about the imposter deputy). To send Stiles away to live with his sister... on the other side of the country. Maybe Isaac was going to pick Stiles up for something (or apologize for attacking him? he seems like the apologetic type), and overheard the conversation? In a panic, he bust through the door, claiming that the Sheriff can't do that. Deep Down knowing that Stiles belongs to his Alpha. Maybe he wolfed out a little? Cue the fall out from this. No I don't want Stiles to move away. Up to author how this gets resolved.

Isaac can hear them as he gets closer to the house. He should go away, come back later, when the sheriff isn’t here. The sheriff sounds a little angry, a lot frustrated, but not raging. Of course, Isaac always stepped more carefully around his father when he wasn’t raging – if he was, Isaac did his best to avoid him, but when he seemed calm, Isaac never knew what would be the thing to set him off and something always did. He waits by the door, not sure what to do. He came here to apologize to Stiles. Stiles had been there to help and he’d almost attacked him. He just listens.

The sheriff says, “Stiles, I don’t know what to do anymore. You take off from the dance, leaving your injured date behind. And then when you do show up, you don’t have any answers and then disappear again. When you should be at home, you’re at the hospital. You show up at a funeral that you shouldn’t be at. You’re in the woods looking for the Martin girl when you’re supposed to be here. You get called to the principal’s office and you get detention for the _second_ time. And I don’t know what all went on at the station, but I know you’re not telling me everything. This all started when you found Laura Hale’s body and I feel like all I’ve gotten from you since then are half-truths and evasions. And I’ve let it slide, but not any more.”

“Dad, I can explain,” Stiles says.

“I’m waiting.”

“Uh, I’ve been really, uh, distracted. I haven’t meant to, uh, be so much trouble.”

“I do believe that, son. But it’s not good enough.”

Isaac’s hackles are rising. He’s not sure what’s going to happen, but he knows what his dad would do now. And he knows how he’d hoped someone would’ve come and helped him. His claws start to come out. He tunes back in.

“... why I think you should stay at your aunt Bonnie’s for the time being and we’ll reevaluate in a few weeks. I just can’t spend the time looking after you that you seem to need,” the sheriff says.

“Dad, no. Aunt Bonnie lives across the country. It’s the middle of the semester. What about school, what about lacrosse, what about Scott?” Stiles voice has gone high and panicky.

Isaac feels himself fully wolf-out. This is wrong. Stiles is needed here. Stiles belongs to the alpha.

~~~

Stiles looks at his dad, horrified. He has no idea what to say to change his mind. But he can’t leave. Scott will end up hurt or dead and that just can’t happen. He tries for calm and rational, but his voice doesn’t get the message. “Dad, no. Aunt Bonnie lives across the country. It’s the middle of the semester. What about school, what about lacrosse, what about Scott?” 

His dad sighs and says, “I’m sorry, it’s decided. You’re going. Now, you-

The door slams open, broken off it’s hinges. And a wolfed-out Isaac is coming straight for his dad.  
Stiles gets between them and says in his most authoritative voice, “Do NOT touch my dad!”

And Isaac stops, looking confused.

Stiles’ dad is trying to go for his gun. “Dad, don’t,” Stiles says softly.

“Stiles, get behind me,” his dad orders.

Isaac bares his teeth.

“Dad, uh, it would be a really good idea not to yell. Um, and try not to do anything that might upset him or make him angry,” Stiles says, half turning toward him, trying to keep Isaac in his sightline, but make sure his dad can see that he’s serious.

“Stiles?”

Which is totally Dad for ‘I’m calm, but I want an explanation, now’. He’s been getting that a lot, lately. He needs a plausible reason for this.

Isaac says, “You can’t take him away, he belongs to Derek.”

“What?” Both Stiles and his dad ask simultaneously, with the same incredulous tone.

Isaac doesn’t say anything.

“Stiles, what the hell?” his dad asks.

“Uh, he’s on drugs? Like some serious steroids?” Stiles offers. It’s the best he’s got.

“Try again,” his dad commands.

Stiles cringes which makes Isaac growl. “Okay, okay, I know you’ve had a hard time. And I know this is hard for you to control. But my dad isn’t like yours. He would never hurt me. Never. So you have to chill, man,” Stiles says to Isaac. Then, to his dad he says, “So, um, werewolves, uh, are real.”

“The animal attacks,” his dad says in realization.

“Yeah, but the one who was doing that is dead,” Stiles replies.

“And Isaac’s father?”

“Isaac didn’t do that.”

“Why should I believe that?”

“Because it’s true.”

“Wait, wait, he said Derek. Derek Hale?”

“Um, yeah.”

“This is it, isn’t it? This is what you haven’t been telling me about. And Scott’s involved, right?”

“Uh…”

“Stiles.”

“Oh, crap. So, Scott got bitten by a crazy alpha werewolf trying to start his pack. We thought it was Derek at first, but it turned out to be Peter Hale, his uncle. He was killing all the people that were involved in his family’s deaths. Except Laura, he killed her to become alpha, so he could get power. He was the one at the school, even though we didn’t know it at the time. He tried to get Derek and Scott to be his pack and help him. Oh, and Kate Argent, who you know was behind the fire, is a werewolf hunter, well, the whole family is, except they’re supposed to have a code – don’t kill werewolves unless they hurt innocent people, which she didn’t follow. Except maybe now they’re not following the code because Peter killed her. Anyway, she had Derek and Peter attacked Lydia and wouldn’t let me do anything unless I helped him find Derek. So, I got Jackson to get Lydia and then helped Peter track down Derek. And then when I got to the hospital, the hunters found out. There was this big showdown out at the Hale house and yeah.”

His dad blinks at the information dump. “Jesus, Stiles.”

“Oh, wait. I forgot - the hunters sent in that deputy to kill Isaac here, but Isaac got out. I think that’s it.”

His dad opens and closes his mouth a few times, but can’t seem to get anything out.

Stiles darts a glance at Isaac, who is now mostly back to human. “Hey, you okay there?”

Isaac shrugs a little and nods.

“Okay, okay. Here’s what we’re going to do – we’re going to pick up the door and put it back up as well as we can, to be fully repaired later. Then you, Stiles, are going to call Derek and Scott and they are going to come over here and answer the myriad of questions that I have. And you, Isaac,” his dad stops and sighs, “have you had anything to eat?”

Isaac shakes his head no.

“Well, we’ll fix you something after we get the door up, while we’re waiting for Derek and Scott, okay?”

“O-Okay.”

“And what was that about Stiles belonging to Derek?”

Isaac shrugs helplessly.

His dad turns to Stiles, eyebrows raised.

Stiles holds his hands up. “Yeah, I don’t know what that’s about.”

~~~

Stiles’ conversation on the phone with Scott is pretty quick:

“Oh, so he knows everything now?” Scott asks.

“Mostly, I think. Big picture stuff, anyway,” Stiles says.

“Should I tell him about the big lizard thing?”

What? “What big lizard thing?”

“At the Lahey house, there was this lizard thing that was, like, our size and it was going to attack Allison, but I think I scared it off. Maybe it’s what killed Isaac’s father.”

“Yeah, you should tell my dad about that and also you should tell me.”

“Okay, I’ll be over as soon as I can.”

Stiles’ conversation on the phone with Derek is relatively short, too, but doesn’t go quite as well:

“You told him?” Derek asks, his tone condemning.

“Well, I’m sorry, Mr. Alpha. Was I supposed to pull out my Jedi mind tricks and say, ‘Yeah, no, that’s not really a wolfed-out guy you’re seeing right there in front of you and he definitely did not knock down our door with his super-strength’?” Stiles asks sarcastically. “Because Isaac’s _your_ , I don’t know, beta. Aren’t you supposed to be looking after him? Making sure he doesn’t do things like this? This is so not my fault.”

“Fine. I’ll be over in twenty minutes.”

“Okay, good, and maybe you can explain- Hello? Hello? I can’t believe you just hung up on me.”

~~~

After they’ve gone over it and over it and _over it_ , the sheriff finally seems satisfied that he has all the information. Derek watches him carefully, wondering what he’ll do. The sheriff gives Stiles a troubled look and Stiles pipes up, challenging, “If you send me away and Scott gets hurt or killed, I’ll never forgive you.”

The sheriff’s expression doesn’t change.

“I’ll never forgive myself,” Stiles says, softer, less of a challenge and more of a promise.

Scott gives him a grateful smile that’s a little sad around the edges. Derek cannot believe how loyal Stiles is. The sheriff’s expression breaks and he nods. He tells them not to go anywhere, he needs a minute. He leaves the room and they can hear him pacing up and down the hall. Derek looks at Stiles in question.

“It helps him think,” Stiles says.

“You can’t go. You belong to Derek,” Isaac says quietly.

“Why do you keep saying that?” Stiles asks Isaac, then he turns to Derek, “Why does he keep saying that?”

Derek’s at a loss. He shrugs.

“You said to protect him. You said he’s a friend. You said he’s Pack,” Isaac says to Derek.

Stiles looks at Derek. “You said that?” he asks, pleased.

Derek rolls his eyes and gives a grudging nod. “You’re Pack. The pack belongs to me,” Derek says, figuring this must be what Isaac means.

“Not just Pack, though,” Isaac mumbles.

“What?” Derek asks with a frown.

“He’s important.”

“Pack is important,” Derek confirms.

“He’s more important than Pack,” Isaac says, matter-of-fact.

Derek looks at Isaac. “He’s human. We have to be more careful of humans,” Derek repeats what he’d told Isaac after the almost attack at the station, thinking that might be what Isaac is hung up on.

“Yeah, but that’s not what I meant. Your voice changes when you talk about him and your heartbeat gets a little faster when you look at him. You said he was yours to deal with and you meant it.”

Derek hangs his head. Apparently, Isaac’s already pretty good with his senses. Derek looks up again. Scott looks stunned. Stiles is staring at him open-mouthed.

The sheriff comes back in the room. He says to Derek, Scott, and Isaac, “Okay, you three, I’ve got a few rules. First of all, be careful. Be careful of yourselves and especially be careful with my son. I don’t want anyone to think of Stiles as a target by association. Anything major, anything serious, you come to me first. You do not harm or kill anyone unless you or someone else is in imminent danger. If you do and there is no danger, I will find a way to lock you up. And there will probably be more rules when I’ve thought about this longer.”

Derek nods and then Isaac and Scott nod, too.

The sheriff looks at Stiles and says, “You will tell me where you are going and who you are with. And we’re getting that GPS app thing and you will take your phone everywhere, so that I can pinpoint where you are whenever I want. If you aren’t somewhere I expect you to be and you don’t answer your phone, I will be coming to find you and you’d better have a damned good explanation. Do you understand?”

“Yeah, Dad, I get it,” Stiles says.

“Okay, now, everyone go home. Isaac, I’ll smooth things over at the station as best I can. Do you have somewhere to stay?” the sheriff asks.

“Yes, he does,” Derek answers.

“Good. But, Isaac, I expect you to help fix the door.”

Isaac nods and gives an apologetic smile. “I can come over tomorrow. About six?”

“That will work.”

Derek, Isaac, and Scott file out of the house. Scott gives Derek a considering look, but doesn’t say anything as he gets on his bike and rides away. Derek unlocks his car and gestures for Isaac to get in. Isaac climbs in. Just as Derek’s about to get in, Stiles comes out of the house and calls out, “Derek, could I talk to you for a second?”

Derek considers it and then nods, closing the driver’s side door. He walks over to Stiles.

Stiles smiles at him. “So, I just wanted to-“

“No, Stiles. You’re sixteen and your father, the sheriff, now knows I’m a werewolf, so, no.”

“Dude, I was just going to say that you have a nice smile and you should use it more often.”

Derek can’t help the little surprised laugh he gives.

“See, there you go,” Stiles says and then darts in and gives him a quick peck of a kiss. Stiles is backing away before Derek can react. He gives Derek a little wave and goes inside, wrestling with the door.

Derek puts his face in his hand. He’s in so much trouble.


	20. This Guy's Everywhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Prompt](http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/3353.html?thread=2577433#t2577433): Derek/Stiles. Several rival packs have moved into town, and Beacon Hills is becoming a hotbed of werewolf activity. Unmated humans in packs are extremely vulnerable during this kind of territorial dispute, so Derek convinces Stiles to wear his scent for his own protection. This unintentionally (but inevitably) leads to Derek becoming intensely possessive and affectionate with Stiles (and endless jokes from Jackson/Scott/etc.). Bonus points if Derek is in complete denial of his feeling, until the obligatory sexytimes of course.

“Nope, sorry, that doesn’t make any sense,” Stiles says, scrunching up his face.

Derek sighs and tries to explain… again. “Unmated humans in packs are vulnerable. Humans don’t have the same connection to their alpha. Unmated humans are part of the pack by choice – if another pack can get to one, they can use that human against their original pack, either by threat or by bringing that human into the pack.”

“No, yeah, that I got, but like you said, _by choice_. Why would you change allegiances?”

“Not everyone is as loyal as you and sometimes you aren’t given the chance to refuse.”

“And why aren’t mated humans as vulnerable?”

“That bond is very strong – not usually easily broken. Also, what do you think Scott would do if Allison were taken?”

“Go berserk, go after them with everything he could.”

“Right, most packs aren’t willing to risk an out of control werewolf coming after them. A berserk werewolf can do serious damage before they’re stopped. The taking of an unmated human is considered more of a negotiation tactic or a strategic positioning, whereas taking a mated one is like a declaration of war.” It’s very odd to be explaining things he’d learned from his parents to someone else.

Stiles looks thoughtful. “Huh. Alright. Me pretending to leave the pack probably wouldn’t work. Buddy system, maybe? Whenever I’m out of the house, I’m with a wolf?”

“It would be better if the other packs thought you had a mate.”

“Thought I had… Oh, so, pretend dating? Awesome, in a totally _not_ way. I don’t want to pretend to date Jackson. He’s a douche, especially as a boyfriend. And Lydia, well, I don’t, I don’t want to pretend date her – I don’t think that would be a good idea for me. I guess I can handle Jackson,” Stiles says, an expression of distaste on his face.

“I wasn’t thinking of Jackson or Lydia,” Derek says, feeling strangely disgruntled by the fact that Stiles didn’t even consider him.

“Who- Oh. Hmm. I don’t know. I’m not really eager to be Lifetime movie material.”

“What?”

“You’re always grabbing me, threatening me, pushing me around. If you’re my ‘boyfriend’, it makes it kind of an abusive relationship. Although, now that I think about it, everybody has been pretty physical with me, lately. Taking hold of me, pulling me, slamming me against things, and it’s not just werewolves, either. Do I give off some sort of vibe?”

“Yes,” Derek says bluntly.

“Hey!”

“You asked.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t mean it. I really give off a vibe?”

“You are a challenge to every alpha male’s authority, werewolf or not. You don’t bow down, roll over, obey. It makes people want to push you down, keep you under control, even though that doesn’t seem to work,” Derek says, shaking his head. Stiles is only ever cowed for a few minutes, at most.

“Well, since you know it doesn’t work, could you stop?”

“I will try,” Derek says reluctantly. Part of it’s just instinct.

“Alright, I guess. So, pretend dating then. Did you want to go out to eat or to a movie or something?” Stiles asks, looking at Derek a little skeptically, like he can’t imagine Derek doing anything like that.

“We don’t have to ‘date’. You just have to smell like me.”

Stiles backs away a little. “Like, marking your territory?”

“No. Scott’s scent is all over Allison because they’re together all the time, he touches her a lot, gives her his jacket to wear. You just need my scent on you.”

“Oh, well that doesn’t sound too bad. Do I get to wear your jacket?” Stiles asks teasingly.

Derek’s about to give an automatic denial, but then he thinks it’s probably a good first step. “Yes.” He takes it off and holds it out to Stiles.

Stiles just stands there, looking a little shocked.

Derek manhandles him into his leather jacket, carefully, keeping his promise in mind. He’s not much taller than Stiles, but his shoulders are broader, so it’s a little big on Stiles.

“Okay, this is weird. Do you live in this jacket? It really smells like you.”

Derek gives him a look.

“I know, I know, totally the point.”

“Sleep in it tonight. Wear it tomorrow.”

“Sleep in it? Okay, I live in an actual house with all four walls and a roof. It never gets cold enough inside to wear a leather jacket to bed.”

“Sleep _with_ it, then,” Derek bites out, annoyed.

“Okay, I can do that. Like a leather teddy bear. No, okay, that sounded really strange. Yeah, I’ll sleep next to it.”

“Stiles, next to your skin would be best.”

“Skin, okay. Gotcha. Note to self: wake up before Dad can wake you, you don’t want to have to come up with an explanation for this.”

“Come over after practice tomorrow.”

“Yeah, alright.”

~~~

Stiles shows up a little earlier than expected. Derek drops from the doorframe where he’d been doing pull-ups and grabs his shirt to pull on when he hears Stiles’ Jeep. He goes outside as the Jeep pulls up. Stiles doesn’t get out right away, so Derek goes over to stand by the driver’s side. Stiles is muttering to himself about someone named Greenberg. He finally opens the car door and climbs out, flinching back when he realizes Derek is right there.

Stiles puts a hand to his chest, his heart racing. “You always just appear.”

“You should pay more attention to your surroundings.” Stiles is wearing Derek’s jacket and Derek is startled at how much he likes his scent on Stiles, on top of Stiles’ own scent.

“Some of us don’t have super senses.”

“All the more reason.”

“Whatever.”

“You’re early.”

“Yeah, someone got hurt.”

Derek frowns, thinking about Scott and Jackson.

Stiles says, “Oh, it wasn’t anything wolf-y. Greenberg ran into the bench.”

Derek looks him over. “Were you hurt?”

“Why do you assume I was on the bench? I could have been playing. Coach actually plays me during practice. Practice dummy is practically my purpose. Wait, that’s not what I meant to say.” Stiles sighs. “He just knocked me over, no big.”

Derek scowls a little. Nobody should be messing with his pack.

“You worried about me, big guy?” Stiles bats his eyes.

Derek grunts.

“Oh my God. You are.”

“You’re Pack.”

“Yeah, because of Scott.”

“What?”

“I’m Pack because Scott is. Because he wanted me here.”

“No. He did want you in the pack, but that’s not why.”

“He thinks that’s why.”

“Does he?”

Stiles narrows his eyes at Derek and then laughs. “You _let_ him think that. Let him think you were making a concession, didn’t you?”

Derek shrugs.

“But, then why?”

“You helped me find the alpha and then you helped me defeat him. You were Pack before Scott.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You didn’t ask.”

“I- You-“

“What, Stiles?”

“It’s all kind of head-game-y, isn’t it?”

“There aren’t that many good ways of maintaining power. One way is knowledge. Would you rather I used fear?”

“What about love? Doesn’t love work, too?”

“In it’s own way, love can be as dangerous as fear.”

“That might be true, if you look at it a certain way, but that’s a really depressing way to think about it.”

Derek has nothing he can say to that. He knows that his experiences have left him cynical - damaged. He’s a little bitter and he has a hard time trusting anyone. But he also knows that Laura would want him to be the best alpha that he can be. And right here, right now, that means opening up a little to Stiles. “I guess it is. But I do… care about you, your well-being.”

Derek’s expecting Stiles to deflect with some sort of snarky remark, so he’s surprised when Stiles says, “You know, my mom would have liked you. Not the pushing me around and threatening me. But she would have loved the werewolf thing.” Derek’s so surprised, he almost misses what Stiles says next, “And you being the noble, romantic hero.”

Derek doesn’t know why he feels so affronted by that, but he does. “I’m not a romantic hero,” he snaps.

“Dude, if there were moors, you would be brooding on them. You’re practically Byronesque. Hell, you’re Byron – mad, bad, and dangerous to know, except, you know, not in the same ways. And, well, you look like that,” Stiles says waving his hand to encompass all of Derek.

“Like what?”

“Like… you would never have to ask if gay guys found you attractive.”

“Why would anyone _have_ to do that?” Derek asks, confused.

Stiles looks a little shifty. “No reason. Anyway, you really are a gothic horror romantic figure with the lurking and the looming and the creepy way you have of just appearing. Not that you don’t rock that. Like a rocking… thing – chair, like a rocking chair. Hey, you ever thought about going full-on creepy and dressing up like a clown or-“ Stiles breaks off, looking horrified. “Oh my God. You would be scarier than the clown doll in Poltergeist, scarier than Tim Curry in It! Stop, stop, brain, just stop,” Stiles says, hitting himself in the forehead with the palm of his hand a few times.

Derek stares at him, a little alarmed. He can’t imagine what he would do if thoughts ping-ponged in his head like they seem to do in Stiles’.

Stiles looks up at him and says, “If I was turned, would I- I have this problem with my attention-“

“I hadn’t noticed,” Derek deadpans.

“Hey, Mr. Funny Wolf, no. You get to be Tall, Dark, and Brooding and you have super special werewolf powers. I know I’m just the sidekick, but leave me one thing, let me be the smart-ass,” Stiles says seriously.

It seems really important to Stiles so Derek nods. “Okay, you’re the smart-ass sidekick…”

Stiles gives a little acknowledging nod.

“…who regularly saves the day,” Derek finishes.

Stiles lights up and gives Derek a sweet, happy smile. Derek is taken aback at how satisfied it makes him. Derek clears his throat. “I don’t know how turning would affect you. I’ve met several turned werewolves that had issues with focus, but I don’t know how bad they were before turning or if they even had them. I didn’t think to ask.”

“Oh. Had to ask. So, you want your jacket back?”

“No, you should keep wearing it for now.”

Stiles grimaces a little.

“You don’t like it?”

“It’s a nice jacket.” Stiles strokes absently at the sleeve. “I even got a compliment. Jackson was just, well, Jackson is Jackson and he’ll insult me or complain no matter what, so he doesn’t count, but Scott and Lydia were really weird.”

Derek tears his gaze away from the unexpectedly fascinating sight of Stiles’ fingers petting the black leather. He makes a disapproving noise, thinking about his beta wolves. Maybe it’s time he had a talk – make sure they know how to treat their pack members.

“Allison was the only one I actually wanted to talk to today. Which is a good thing. She’s going to look into some hunter journals and whatnot and see if she can find the information I’m looking for. I think I can come up with something, not to counteract, but to temper the effects of wolf’s bane.”

“You can do that?”

“I think so. I’m pretty good at chemistry, even if Mr. Harris doesn’t much like me. I don’t know why, I do really well in class. Maybe it’s Scott. Scott isn’t so great at chem, but also, sometimes, experiments just go really wrong around him.”

“Hmm.” Derek lets Stiles’ rambling about a pH experiment wash over him as he wonders how it is that the humans in his pack contribute so much and seem so much more engaged in the pack than the wolves. Scott, Jackson, and Lydia are a little too self-involved and Derek needs to find a way to remedy that.

“…and then, somehow, everything was pink. Okay, so yeah why am I here again?” Stiles asks.

Derek leads him down to a small room that had escaped the fire mostly unscathed. The walls and ceiling are whole and structurally sound and there’s a door that he’d put a lock on. The small high up window gives him plenty of light during the day and when it gets dark, Derek has a small generator and a couple of utility lights, but he usually uses a lantern. There’s a couple of trunks for his things and a mattress in the far corner with a nest of blankets. Derek closes the door behind them and nudges Stiles over to the bed.

Derek takes off his boots. He looks at Stiles, who looks back blankly. “Take off your shoes,” Derek tells him. Stiles does. “And the jacket.” Stiles takes it off and lays it down carefully on one of the trunks.

Stiles looks at him and asks, “So, what are we doing?”

“Scent sharing.” Derek takes off his shirt and says, “Take your shirt off.”

Stiles blinks and slowly tugs his shirt off. “From wearing your jacket to this, aren’t we skipping a few steps here?” He puts his shirt down and crosses his arms, hunching a little and looking self-conscious.

Derek pulls him down on the bed. “Like what?” Derek arranges Stiles on his side and lies down next to him, his front to Stiles’ back, and wraps an arm around him.

“Like, I don’t know, an actual relationship, something… something real.”

“Real?”

“Well, I just thought, you know, if I was going to be cuddling with someone, half-naked in a bed, it would be because we were together, like, for real,” Stiles says quietly, a tang of sadness to him.

“These other packs, they won’t be around forever. Some packs like to move around and the others will eventually get be repelled by all of the hunter activity. When they’re gone, you can find someone and just ask them out.”

“I know I’m not God’s gift or anything, but I’m not horrible, either. I’m sure there are people that I could ask out that would go out with me because it sucks to be alone and they think I’m okay. But I don’t want that. I want what Scott and Allison have. Or, well, that would be a little too much, actually. But I do want something close to it. I don’t just want to date someone who thinks I’m okay. I want someone that I really like, that really likes me back. I want someone who lights up because of me, who makes me light up,” Stiles pauses for a long moment and then says softly, “I could tell from my dad’s face when my mom had just walked into the room. That was real. I want that.”

“Packs do this. Share scent. It’s not just a mate thing. It strengthens the pack bond. So, in that sense, this is real,” Derek offers, hoping that will make it more agreeable for Stiles.

“Why hasn’t the pack done it before then?”

“I wanted to wait until the pack gelled, until everyone got more familiar with each other as Pack. You’re all hormonal, body-conscious teenagers.”

Stiles makes a soft noise that could either be agreement or disagreement, Derek can’t tell. He waits for more, but then realizes Stiles is asleep. Derek is utterly unsurprised to learn that Stiles talks in his sleep. Stiles tells Scott to do his homework, tells his father that he can’t have salt, tells Jackson to stop being an ass, tells Lydia how pretty her hair looks, tells Allison that Scott might be a little clueless, but his heart is usually in the right place, and he tells Derek not to scare him like that. Then he tells everyone to be careful, to watch out, not to get hurt. Derek thinks it must be exhausting to worry so much, to try to take care of everything and everybody.

After a couple of hours, Derek wakes Stiles up. He considers for a moment and then dresses a sleep-dazed Stiles with the shirt Derek had been wearing and the jacket. He makes sure Stiles is awake enough to drive and then sends him home.

~~~

The next pack meeting is something of a trial. Derek doesn’t know how many puns can be made using the word ‘mate’ and all of it’s variations, but Jackson seems to be trying for a world record. Stiles was right about Scott and Lydia. They are acting very weirdly. Egging Jackson on at times, then getting annoyed with him. They cage Stiles in, sitting on either side of him and watch him intently out of the corners of their eyes or ignore him completely. Stiles is frustrated and Allison is exasperated and Derek starts thinking about those moors Stiles mentioned – they might be kind of nice as long as they are a long way from Beacon Hills.

Derek lets it play out because he wants to figure out what’s driving it before putting a stop to it. When he realizes what’s going on, he can’t believe he didn’t see it coming. Scott and Lydia are vacillating between reacting to Stiles as if he’s really Derek’s mate and reacting to him as if he’s a friend in a uncomfortable, but funny situation. He thinks the same mechanics are also making Jackson up his antagonism – Jackson doesn’t respond well to uncertainty.

It’s time to make a few things clear. “Whether he’s my mate or not, you will respect Stiles and his place in this pack. He is second only to me.” Derek says, putting the full force of his alpha command into his voice.

The room goes completely silent and all of them are staring at him with wide eyes.

“Do you understand?” Derek asks.

That gets four nods and a head shake from Stiles.

Derek rolls his eyes. “Come here, Stiles.” Stiles gets up and comes over to Derek. Derek pulls him down to sit next to him. “Stay,” he says to Scott and Lydia who look like they want to get up and come over, too.

“This would be a really inappropriate time to make a dog joke, wouldn’t it?” Stiles asks.

Allison puts a hand over her mouth, but can’t stop the laughter from bubbling out. It seems to break the tension and things go along much more smoothly after that. The only problem is that Derek can’t seem to keep his hands to himself. He keeps ending up with a hand on Stiles’ shoulder or the back of his neck. After darting a look at him the first time it happens, Stiles doesn’t really react. And part of Derek must want him to react because he lets his hand linger, lets it curl so that it’s not just touching but holding on.

Derek asks Stiles to wait when the others leave. Stiles shrugs and stays put. Derek retrieves the bag that he’d packed earlier, full of clothes that Derek had worn this week. He hands it to Stiles.

Stiles opens it, looks in it and then gives Derek a wary look. “There’s no underwear in here, right? Because I’m not even sure I would be okay wearing someone else’s _clean_ underwear. Well, maybe Lydia’s. Okay, wow, I should not have said that.” Stiles peers at him. Derek’s not sure what’s showing on his face, but it must be something because Stiles says, “And you really need to stop thinking about that, right now.”

Derek looks away, trying to get the image out of his mind. He looks back at Stiles after a long moment.

“Yeah, so, my dad is a little suspicious,” Stiles says.

“Why?”

“The jacket, your shirt. He hasn’t said anything, but he’s giving me looks. Soon there will be questions.”

Derek grimaces. “Then you probably can’t get away with spending the night here tomorrow.”

“Was I going to?” Stiles asks, perplexed.

“It would be a good idea.” Derek had caught sight of pack members from at least three other packs at last night’s game. They were studying his pack, looking for weaknesses, he’s sure.

“Maybe the day after tomorrow? He works doubles on Friday. I can say I’m at Scott’s.”

“That will work.”

“Okay. I guess I’ll see you then.”

Derek walks him out to his Jeep, resisting the urge to tell him to come back tomorrow. He doesn’t need to see Stiles every day. Friday will be soon enough.

~~~

On Friday, after Derek finds himself rearranging things in his room for the third time as he waits for Stiles, he gets out and goes for a run. Although he’s been maintaining a composed face for his pack, the territory situation has been getting to him. He wants all of these other packs gone, but he has a very young, small pack and while he believes they can defend, if need be, they are in no position to go on the offensive. He doesn’t want any of the members from the other packs near his pack, especially Stiles. He tries to tell himself it’s because Stiles is the most vulnerable (Allison may also be human, but she has both her formidable archery skills and her family’s name and reputation). Derek feels a little calmer after his run. And calmer still when he finds Stiles already there, in his room. Stiles has the lantern on and is doing something on his phone. He turns off his phone and puts it away when he sees Derek.

“Hey,” Stiles says.

“Hey.” Derek takes a deep breath. His scent isn’t quite as all over Stiles as he would like, but it’s there. The mingling of their scents is very soothing.

“So, I think this is working.”

“What’s working?”

“The scent thing.”

Derek tenses. “What do you mean?”

“One of the guys from Pack Puck was, like, sniffing me in the store.”

Derek gets over to Stiles as quickly as he can and looks him over. “He didn’t touch you, did he?” Derek’s eyes flash, but he keeps his fangs and claws from extending.

“N-No. And, wow, you moved really fast there.”

Derek furrows his brow and he tries to figure out which pack Stiles is referring to. He can’t remember anyone with the name Puck. “Pack Puck?”

Stiles flushes a little. “Oh, uh, yeah. When I didn’t know any of the alphas’ names, I kind of came up with nicknames for the packs.”

“Puck?”

“Shakespeare?” Stiles offers hesitantly, his heart speeding up a little.

Derek lifts an eyebrow at the lie.

“Okay, okay. Wolfgang Puck? The chef? I thought it was funny. You know, _Wolfgang_ , wolf gang.”

Derek thinks it’s funny, too, but doesn’t let it show. “And the others?”

“Mozart and Petersen.”

“That’s only three.”

“Yeah, I couldn’t think of any other Wolfgangs, so the last pack is Duran Duran.”

Derek snorts out a laugh.

Stiles smiles, looking pleased with himself. “We’re doing the scent sharing thing again, right?”

“Yes.”

“All night?”

“All night.”

“Fair warning, Scott says I talk in my sleep.”

“You do.”

“I- Oh, uh, okay then. So, you want to get right to it?”

“The longer, the better.”

“That’s what they all say.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” Stiles takes the jacket off and lays it down on a trunk, as before. He takes off his shoes and socks. “Shirt off, right?”

“And pants.”

“Pants?” Stiles squeaks.

“You can keep your underwear on.” Derek efficiently strips down to his boxer-briefs.

“Oh, gee, can I?” Stiles says sarcastically as he slowly removes his shirt and pants. He frowns a little as he looks Derek up and down.

Derek puts his hands at the waistband of his boxer-briefs and says, “We could do without.” He’s not serious, not really.

“No! No, underwear is good.”

Derek shrugs and climbs on the bed. Stiles clambers awkwardly on, too. They get themselves arranged under the covers, back to front, like the last time. Derek reaches over and turns off the lantern and then wraps himself around Stiles. He puts his nose at the nape of Stiles’ neck and breathes him in.

“So, uh, you have these, like, enhanced senses. Your sense of hearing, sense of smell, which also boosts your sense of taste, and your vision is better than a human’s, especially in lower light, right?” Stiles asks.

“Right.”

“What about your sense of touch? Scott’s never really said anything about it. Is it more sensitive?”

“Don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“How would you compare that?”

“There are ways. We could test it. I could set something up. That might be really informative.” Stiles chatters on about possible experiments.

Even though the thought of being experimented on has always been a fear, a reason not to tell anyone he didn’t have to about werewolves, Stiles’ interest makes it seem not so bad. Probably because his intent is to help, not hurt. After a while, Stiles winds down and falls asleep. It doesn’t take long for Derek to follow, feeling more relaxed than he has in weeks.

Stiles wakes Derek up a couple of times during the night by saying something. And he gets really agitated, asking something about being somewhere until Derek answers ‘yes’, which is apparently the correct answer because he settles right down after that. Derek shakes his head fondly, pulls Stiles closer, and falls back to sleep.

When Derek wakes up in the morning, Stiles has turned around so that they’re facing each other, Derek still wrapped around him. Derek studies his sleeping face in the dawning light. Stiles shifts a little and Derek can feel him hard against his hip. Stiles snuffles and wakes up suddenly, his whole body going stiff as he seems to realize his erection is pressed up against Derek.

“Hey, uh, could you maybe let me up?” Stiles says, squirming in his hold.

“Stiles, it’s okay.”

“It’s really, really not.”

“It happens to every guy.”

“And yet, that doesn’t make it less embarrassing,” Stiles says, huffing, but he stops squirming. “So, how ‘bout them Mets?”

“I was always more of a Yankees fan.”

“Oh my God. You cannot be serious. How wrong can a person be? Because you are the wrongest.”

“That’s not a word.”

“Yes, it is because you are it.”

“Hmm.”

“What time is it?”

“Early. What time do you have to be home?”

“I want to get back by ten, make my dad something to eat before he gets home. Otherwise, he’ll just go to sleep and then eat everything that is horrible for him when he wakes up.”

“Okay. Go back to sleep for a while. I’ll wake you up in time.”

Surprisingly, Stiles does it without argument. Derek bets he’s been staying up late researching. Stiles needs to stop that, a sleep deficit on top of his attention deficit is just asking for trouble. Of course, Derek remembers late nights as a teenager that were spent doing things that weren’t anywhere near as productive. Why did he make a pack out of a bunch of teenagers again? He sighs and tucks his face into the side of Stiles’ neck and just breathes there for a while.

~~~

It’s been three days since Derek has seen Stiles and he feels antsy. Stiles got himself grounded for something and hadn’t been able to come over. Derek is kind of annoyed with himself, and Stiles, and the whole world, but mostly with himself. He doesn’t know why he feels such a compulsion to see Stiles, to be around him, to have Stiles’ scent mix with his. He doesn’t know why the thought of Scott or Jackson or Lydia, especially Lydia, getting to be around Stiles is so irritating. Or maybe he just doesn’t _want_ to know. Derek finally gives up on denial when he finds himself at Stiles’ bedroom window with no memory of actually deciding to go. He taps on the window.

Stiles opens the window with confused frown. When he sees Derek, he says dramatically, “‘Surely,’ said I, ‘surely that is something at my window lattice; Let me see then, what thereat is’*.” 

“How long have you been waiting to use that?”

“Weeks. But I didn’t think I was going to get to because you don’t usually knock or, well, tap.”

“Not a raven.”

“So sorry, I’ll look for a poem featuring wolves for next time, just for you. Won’t you come in?” Stiles asks and steps to the side.

Derek climbs in and Stiles closes the window behind him. 

“What’s up?” Stiles asks, flopping down to sit on the bed.

“I needed to see you.”

“Is it the scent thing? Because I’ve been wearing your clothes and jacket.”

Derek licks his lips. “No.”

“Oh. Is something wrong? Is it Scott? Is-“

“No.”

“Do you want me to keep asking questions until I get to the right thing? Because I can totally do that.”

“No.”

“We could stare at each other. That would be fun.”

“Stiles, I _needed_ to see you.”

“You said that already.” Stiles studies him. “But I’m getting the feeling that what you mean by that is not what I think you mean by that. So, what do you mean by that?”

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” Derek says.

“You mean in the God-you’re-so-annoying way, right?”

“No.”

Stiles opens and closes his mouth a few times, but doesn’t say anything.

Derek doesn’t know what he was expecting, but Stiles at a loss for words was not it. He should have thought this through. Should have said it was the scent thing. Of course Stiles isn’t going to know what to do with this. How long has he been hung up on Lydia? 

“Is it like a side effect of me wearing your scent?” Stiles asks suddenly.

Derek hesitates. He could say that’s why and Stiles would accept it. It even sort of makes sense. But it’s the reason for his _awareness_ of his feelings, not the reason for them. He sighs. It’s better to have this out in the open. Maybe. “Not exactly. No.”

“So, you actually, genuinely like me?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure it’s not the scent thing? Or maybe you got whammied by something, someone.”

“Stiles, I like the way my scent smells on you, yes. I like the way our scents combine. But I also like your scent. And the way you feel in my arms. I like it when you ramble on. I like that you’re a part of my pack. I like how quick-thinking you are. I like how loyal you are. I like that you’re a smart-ass. I like you.”

“Whoa. You really mean that.”

“Yes.”

“I, um, I don’t, I…”

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way.” 

“I don’t know what to do.”

“You don’t have to do anything. We can just act like this conversation never happened, if you want.”

“Ignore it until it just goes away, huh?”

Derek curls his hands into fists, nails biting into the palms. “Something like that.”

“I actually meant I literally don’t know what to do. I’ve had crushes, I’ve _pined_ , but I’ve never had a relationship. I’ve never been out on an actual date. Is that what you want, to date? Or make out? Or, like, just keep napping together? What am I supposed to do? What do you want from me?”

“Everything.”

“Well, that’s nice and maybe the tiniest bit creepy, but it’s really fricking vague.”

“Well, what do you want to give me?” Derek asks, a little exasperated.

Stiles thinks about it a second. “Huh.”

“What?”

“I guess, I guess I kind of want to give you… everything. Wow, brain, you couldn’t have clued me in sooner?”

Derek steps over to the bed, puts a knee on the bed between Stiles’ legs, takes Stiles’ face in his hands and kisses him as he bears him down to the bed. He kisses him for long moments. Learning the shape and taste of his mouth, learning the sounds he makes. Derek goes to pull back, but a hand clenched in his shirt doesn’t let him go far.

“I want to give you more of that. That’s definitely part of everything. A really good part,” Stiles says, slightly breathless. His heart is beating fast, his skin is flushed.

Derek really can’t resist. He leans in again and they kiss for a long time and the scent rising from Stiles drives him crazy in the best way. He pulls away reluctantly when he hears the sheriff’s car coming. “You’re dad’s almost home.”

“Crap.”

Derek gets up off the bed and straightens his clothing. He goes over to the window and opens it. “I’ll come over tomorrow. We can talk.”

“Screw talking. Talking is totally overrated and I should know. There are other things, awesome things we can do with our mouths that do not involve words.”

Derek strides over and kisses Stiles, quick and hard. Derek smiles at him. “Okay, tomorrow we’ll find something to do with our mouths.” Stiles smiles back brightly. Derek goes back to the window and slips out.

As he steals away from the house, he hears Stiles say, “Tomorrow,” quietly and full of promise. Derek heads back to his place feeling all lit-up inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Quote from Edgar Allan Poe’s ‘The Raven’.


	21. Things You Wouldn’t Think Would Be a Good Combination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Prompt](http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/4407.html?thread=2684983#t2684983): Derek/Stiles, Peter/Stiles, Lydia. Lydia's werewolf instincts recognizes Stiles as den mother, but not because he's been acting like one. It's because he is her dead Alpha's(Peter's) mate.   
>  +whether Peter claimed him or not is up to anon.   
> +shifted Lydia showing up where ever Stiles is to seek comfort  
> +everyone's response when they realize why she keeps going to Stiles  
> +the Derek/Stiles is completely optional

It’s the full moon and Stiles is upset. Lydia had taken off after school and hadn’t gone home. Scott is out looking for her. Stiles would be too, except, hey, full moon plus several new werewolves that apparently don’t care if they hurt humans (honestly, he’s no longer sure if Derek cares, either). Stiles had promised Scott that he’d stay in because of that. Even if it’s kind of killing him. He doesn’t want Lydia or Scott to get hurt. Hell, with the hunters running around cutting werewolves in half, they could get dead. He kind of hopes that Derek is keeping his pack safe. As much as he’s pissed off at them, he doesn’t want them dead.

Stiles tries to work on homework, but he’s got everything done except for an essay due in a week and a half and he’s already got two-thirds of a first draft done and an outline of the rest. There’s no urgency to finish it so it won’t hold his attention. He could read ahead, but he’s learned from bitter experience that that can lead to epic boredom in class which somehow translates into him having the worst ideas ever to alleviate said boredom (Scott still can’t look at the huge binder clips without shuddering). 

Stiles decides to get on the internet – maybe it can tell him why someone would turn into a giant douche after becoming an alpha. He shifts uneasily when he hears a far off howl. He checks his phone again for messages and then goes back to his werewolf research. He’s a little caught up in reading about pack hierarchy and he startles when there’s a howl that sounds really close. He gets up, turns out the overhead light, and goes to the window. He looks out and there’s something moving in the deep shadows, not twenty feet away. He opens the window and leans out. Something, or rather, someone is crouched there and he can see glowing eyes.

“Scott?” Stiles calls out quietly.

There’s no answer.

He can’t tell who it is, no matter how hard he looks. “Hey, uh, go home. Be careful. And don’t hurt anyone.”

There’s a slight rustle as whoever it is moves further back in the shadows and then the eyes disappear.

Stiles pulls back inside and closes his window, shivering a little. He turns on the light and goes back to his research. Later, he gets a text from Allison that Lydia is home. He breathes a sigh of relief and calls Allison. She hasn’t talked to Lydia, but Lydia’s mom had told Allison that Lydia had rushed in and locked herself in her bedroom, not stopping to talk. So, not great, but at least she’s home.

~~~

Stiles is tramping through the forest the next night because, really, where else would he be? He’s following Scott. Except, he can’t even hear Scott anymore, he’s so far ahead. Stiles is about to call out for Scott when something pops up in front of him. And, oh God, it looks like the lizard thing Scott had described. It makes a weird noise and Stiles takes a breath to start yelling when someone tackles him hard from the side and he gets knocked to the ground. There’s a growl. He looks up, expecting to see a wolfed-out Scott. Instead, it’s a wolfed-out Lydia. He stares at her for a few seconds until he remembers the lizard thing. He looks around for it, but it’s gone. He looks back to Lydia and she’s gone, too. 

Scott comes running up. “What happened?”

Stiles sighs and tells him.

~~~

Stiles expects Lydia to avoid him the next day in school. But, during the fire drill, she comes over and leans against him tiredly. Stiles would be rejoicing inside, except this feels a lot more like she’s seeking reassurance than anything else. He puts an arm around her and tries to be a good friend. “It’s okay, you know. Scott and I can help,” Stiles tells her.

Her breath hitches a little and she gives a slight nod.

Sometimes, he feels really sorry for what happened to Peter because the fire really had messed him up. Other times, like now, he hates him for what he did to Lydia, to Scott, to him. Stiles reaches up and touches the small scar at the back of his neck, hidden by his hair, where Peter had dug a claw in. He pulls Lydia a little closer.

~~~

Oddly, Lydia keeps coming to Stiles first, before Scott. Especially when she’s wolfed-out. And she actually listens to him then. Stiles wonders if it has anything to do with him being there when Peter attacked her. She brings him a dead rabbit which he accepts graciously and then quickly gets rid of (Scott had done the same thing once and he’d only not freaked out because they’d once had a cat who occasionally brought them dead birds and he’d recognized the behavior).

Lydia and Scott fall into this sort sibling thing – a kind of playful rivalry, with bouts of aggression. It’s nice, their little unit (not pack – that’s kind of a loaded word) of Stiles, Scott, Lydia, and Allison (when she can get away from her scary-ass family). Stiles sets up a training regimen that’s mostly about control, but usually includes fighting and sometimes dodging arrows. Stiles isn’t entirely sure what he’s doing, but it’s not like he’s going to ask Derek for advice. Stiles, Scott, and Lydia are out doing one of their training sessions when Derek shows up (it must be an alpha thing to be able to approach without giving yourself away because Scott and Lydia are just as surprised as Stiles). They’d deliberately set these things up far away from Hale property, so Derek must have come looking for them.

“What do you want?” Stiles asks belligerently.

Derek narrows his eyes and takes a step toward him and all of a sudden, Lydia is there between them, wolfed-out, looking like she’s just about to attack Derek.

“Lydia, don’t!” Stiles commands, knowing what Derek is capable of. Lydia backs down, but keeps herself in between Derek and Stiles. Scott gets in front of Lydia.

Derek looks at all of them in turn, his expression calculating. “You know what I want,” he says distractedly, answering Stiles’ question.

“No,” Scott says flatly.

“We’re good,” Stiles says.

“Go away,” Lydia says.

“I can do so much better than these little play sessions,” Derek says condescendingly.

Lydia growls at him.

Derek frowns and studies her closely.

“No thanks,” Scott says.

Derek looks at him and shrugs. He looks over at Lydia again and then walks away.

~~~

Stiles is on the phone with Lydia as he walks into his bedroom. She’s explaining how to do quick volumetric estimates to double check his answers. Stiles is pretty good at math, but it’s easy to make a simple mistake and come up with the wrong answer.

“Hello, Stiles,” Derek says from behind him.

Stiles squawks and jerks in surprise. He hears a snarl from Lydia and then nothing because, apparently, she’d ended the call.

“Lydia?” Derek asks.

Stiles thinks about lying, but he’s pretty sure Derek actually heard her. “Yeah.”

“Good.”

“Why?” Stiles asks suspiciously.

“She’s probably on her way over.”

“So what? She won’t join your pack.”

“Not why I’m here.”

“Then why are you here?”

Derek looks at him consideringly. “Testing a theory.”

“What theory?”

“You’ll see.”

“Fine, but maybe you could just let the pack thing go. You seem to have no problem finding people who do want to be part of your pack. Lydia and Scott don’t.”

“And you?”

“Me? What about me?”

“Do you want to be Pack?”

“I don’t want to be a werewolf.”

“And if I said you didn’t have to be?”

Stiles looks at him. “Doesn’t matter. I’m with Scott and Lydia.”

“Hmm.” Derek looks over at the window. 

There’s a thump and then Lydia’s there, climbing into the room. She’s not wolfed-out, but her eyes are glowing. “Get out,” she says imperiously to Derek.

“It’s Stiles’ room,” Derek says mildly.

Lydia flashes a look at Stiles.

“Oh, uh, yeah, get out,” Stiles says to Derek.

Lydia looks at Derek, expectantly.

“No,” Derek says simply. He looks at Lydia and says, “The way you behave around Stiles is interesting. It’s not surprising that Scott would treat him like Pack. But you, well, not only do you treat him like Pack, you listen to him, like he’s in charge. Why do think that is?”

“You think I should listen to you?” Lydia asks disdainfully.

“I do, but that’s not what this is about, not really. Why are you so attached to him? You’ve ignored his existence for years. You go to one dance and suddenly you don’t want to make a move without his say so. Don’t you think that’s strange?”

“Hey, she’s been through a lot. Lydia can do whatever she needs to and she doesn’t need my say so,” Stiles snaps.

“Oh, I think she does, actually,” Derek says.

“God, what are you talking about?” Stiles asks, exasperated.

“Scott never actually accepted Peter as his alpha. Lydia here, she didn’t get the chance to accept or reject him.”

“So?” Stiles asks.

Derek studies Stiles with a frown. “An alpha’s mate is almost as important as an alpha. Anyone who is part of the pack listens to the mate, seeks guidance from them, especially in the absence of the alpha.”

Stiles swallows hard. “I’m not Peter’s mate,” he says, a tremor in his voice. He clears his throat. “I’m not.”

Except both Lydia and Derek are looking at him like they don’t believe him. Derek had been almost impassive up to this point, but now he’s giving Stiles a troubled look. Lydia looks concerned.

“What did Peter do?” Derek asks.

“I told you . He attacked Lydia, threatened to let her die, pushed me around, got me to help him find you, offered me the bite, which I refused, mangled my keys, and left,” Stiles says quickly, trying not to think about it too much.

“I think you left some things out,” Derek says, watching him closely.

Stiles chest feels tight. “That’s what happened. That’s what I remember,” he stutters out. He reaches up and touches the scar on his neck, then runs a hand over his head to cover the gesture. His breath comes in short, sharp, painful gasps. “That’s, that’s what happened.” He claws at his chest. About the last thing he wants is have a panic attack in front of anyone. It’s bad enough that his dad has seen him have them. It’s so much worse with Derek and Lydia here. He’s light-headed and dizzy. Then Derek’s there, lowering him to the ground, getting him on his side. Lydia comes over and takes hold of his hand. It’s a little better, but he’s still hyperventilating and soon enough, everything goes dark.

~~~

When Stiles wakes up, he’s in bed, under the covers, shoes and socks off. Lydia’s sitting in a chair. And Derek isn’t there.

“Hey,” Stiles says, his voice a little raspy.

“Hey. Derek said to say he was sorry. I think he meant it.”

Stiles grunts.

She looks at him sadly. “I didn’t know-“

“Don’t. Just don’t. Please.”

“Okay. Um, Derek found the scar on the back of your neck.”

“Of course he did.”

“He said you might have some of Peter’s memories”

Stiles reaches up and runs a finger over the scar. “Yeah.”

“Oh.” She doesn’t ask, but it feels like she wants to know.

“Mostly his wife.”

“He had a wife?”

Stiles nods. “There were a few memories of Derek. And Laura. One or two with other members of the family, I think. A few of running. I like those ones best.”

Lydia smiles at him, but then lets it fade away. “Stiles, what should we do? Derek says the hunters are getting more aggressive and he’s right.”

“Yeah, I know. Scott won’t join his pack and I think he’s right about that, but we can’t fight both Derek’s pack and the hunters.”

“What about an alliance? A temporary one?”

“Derek would never go for that.”

“He might. If _you_ ask.”

“Why? Because he feels bad?”

“Sure, let’s go with that.”

“We’d need to convince Scott first.”

“No, we’d need to convince Allison first.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

~~~

They’re able to figure out something workable. Mostly because Derek backs off from being such an ass and if that’s because he’s feeling guilty, well, whatever. Then comes the inevitable battle. Gerard is killed, but so is Isaac. And somehow, Scott, Stiles, and Lydia are able to keep anyone else from dying with a little strategic and secret assistance from Allison (although there are a few serious injuries). And then Allison proposes a truce and, miraculously, they’re able to negotiate one. It’s very tentative, but without Gerard pushing for war and with Allison in their corner, it has a chance.

Stiles makes sure Scott and Lydia are okay, then makes sure Allison is, then Boyd and Erica (they aren’t – they haven’t been a pack all that long, but that doesn’t matter, they’re hurting from their loss), then he checks on Derek. Derek’s face is blank, but there’s something in his eyes that looks like pain, looks like grief. This was supposed to be a better life for Isaac. Stiles gives his shoulder a squeeze and then leaves him to it. He knows how he would feel if it had been Scott or Lydia or Allison. Stiles feels sorry for Mr. Argent as he watches him setting up the scene for the police to discover an animal attack. First his sister and now his father. And sure, they were obsessed and kind of unbalanced, but they were family. Boyd and Erica are taking care of the two halves of Isaac’s body. Stiles heads for home, feeling like he could sleep for a thousand years and still be tired.

Stiles gets home and takes a really long shower. He maybe sheds a few tears. Isaac didn’t deserve to die. There’s been way too much death in such a short amount of time. There’s been too much everything. And maybe a few of those tears are for himself. He feels old, worn. He’s so far away from the boy that went to look for a body in the woods. And that crush on Lydia that he’d clung so tightly to (it had felt innocent and pure when he’d felt anything but), it’s gone. Lydia isn’t that ideal anymore, isn’t someone he can put up on that sky-high pedestal. She’s real and she’s family. But shutting that door hurts.

Stiles gets out of the shower and dries off. He dresses in the t-shirt and sleep pants he brought with him to the bathroom. He brushes his teeth, looking at himself in the mirror. His eyes are a little red, but he can’t see any of the differences that he can feel. He spits, rinses off his toothbrush, puts it up, rinses the sink, and turns off the water. He stares at himself for a long moment and then he turns out the light and leaves the bathroom.

Stiles walks into his bedroom and Derek is sitting on a chair, looking down at his hands. Stiles is almost not surprised to see him.

“Hey,” Stiles says softly.

“We buried Isaac.”

“Okay.”

“In the cemetery. I don’t know if he would have liked that or not.”

“I didn’t know him that well. He seemed like he didn’t want to be any trouble for anyone. But maybe that was just because of his father.”

“Yeah. Maybe you’re right not to want to join my pack. Can’t seem to keep one together.”

“You warned him about hunters. He knew it was dangerous and he still wanted to be a werewolf.”

“I should have told him more. Made sure he was more prepared.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

Derek looks up at him, startled.

“Maybe you should have. Maybe he would have said no. And maybe he still would have been dead because his dad beat him to death. Or maybe not. You won’t ever know. Which, wow, sorry, that probably doesn’t help at all. The thing is, yes, you’re Alpha, but that doesn’t mean you can control everything.”

“I should have warned you.”

“About what?”

“Peter. I knew he was fixated on you. I knew he was looking for a way to get Scott to accept him. I should’ve realized what that meant. I didn’t even really think about what it might mean when I trying to figure out Lydia’s behavior, not until you reacted the way you did. I should’ve at least warned you about his fixation.”

“If I recall, you were kind of chained up for a while there. And I still would have gone with him to save Lydia. Anyway, should’ves are useless. You can’t go back.”

“No, you can’t.”

“I’m really tired.”

“I’ll go.” Derek gets up and goes over to the window.

“Hey, Derek.”

Derek turns back. “What?”

“Did you agree to the alliance because you felt guilty?”

“What?”

“Lydia said you’d agree to an alliance if _I_ asked.”

“She’s pretty smart.”

“Why if I asked?”

“You really don’t know?”

Stiles shakes his head.

Derek comes over and stands in front of Stiles. He reaches up and gently cups Stiles’ face and slowly leans in, giving him time to pull away. He gives Stiles a soft, brief kiss and pulls back.

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Derek backs away slowly, returning to the window.

“Um, do you need to go to Boyd and Erica?”

“No, not right now. They need a little space.”

“Could you… stay? For a little while? It would be nice not to be alone tonight.” It would be nice for both of them not to be alone.

“I could stay.”

~~~

When Stiles wakes up, Derek isn’t there. But Lydia is, lying next to him, on top of the covers, reading a textbook.

“Morning,” Stiles says.

“Afternoon,” Lydia says pointedly, laying the book down.

“Really?”

“Yes. Derek had to leave, but he didn’t want you to wake up alone, so he called me. Sweet of him, wasn’t it?” Lydia asks with a sharp smile.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“What’s going on with you two?”

“I don’t know.”

“You know, I always kind of liked The Brady Bunch. Two families coming together to make one.”

“What?”

“I’m just saying, a blended family might be kind of nice.”

“I’m not- We’re not-“

“And kids need a positive role model.”

“You think _Derek_ is a positive role model?”

Lydia rolls her eyes. “I was talking about you. For Boyd and Erica.”

“That’s really sweet. That’s really… not like you at all. What do you want?”

She beams at him. “Peanut butter pancakes.”

“Fine.”

“But, Stiles, really, if he makes you happy…”

Stiles gets up. “Come on, let’s go make some pancakes,” he pauses and smiles at her, “And thanks.”


	22. Bring Your Gun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Prompt](http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/3353.html?thread=2598425#t2598425): Derek/Stiles, Sheriff Stilinski - Stiles goes missing. Stiles goes missing for whatever reason. Sheriff Stilinski practically kicks down Derek's door, looking for answers. Up until then, he didn't know about werewolves and he didn't know that Stiles and Derek were seeing each other (though he suspected). Derek and Sheriff Stilinski team up to find Stiles, working through their differences and learning how to team up for the sake of their mutual goal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was way before the reveal of the Sheriff's name, so he's Nathan here.

Nathan Stilinski sighs as he finally finishes his last report. He looks at the clock, almost two in the morning. He likes his job, likes being sheriff, protecting their little community, but God, the paperwork is mind-numbing. And it takes up a lot of his time. Time that would be better spent with his son. He tries to bring it home when he can, like tonight, so at least he’s around more. This is when he misses his wife. Sabrina would come and pull him away from his work, remind him of his other priorities. He never means to get so wrapped up in work, but he can’t seem to help himself. And that’s one area where Stiles doesn’t help at all. Stiles is fascinated by criminal activity and will lurk and wait until Nathan’s attention is caught and then sneak looks at the paperwork. Stiles is so curious, just like Sabrina was. He reminds Nathan so much of her that sometimes it hurts. Nathan wishes she could be here for Stiles and for himself and even for herself, so she could see the way Stiles has grown up. Stiles can be exasperating and even frustrating, but he’s an amazing kid. 

Stiles takes care of people, he takes care of Nathan more than he should. He’s loyal as all hell. And he’s smart, so smart that Nathan often wonders if he would already be in college if not for his ADHD. But maybe more importantly, Stiles is kind, not always, but often, and empathetic. Nathan remembers the day Stiles had buzzed his hair, after Sabrina had started to lose hers from the chemo. He remembers how Stiles had told them that having as little hair as possible was all the rage and how Sabrina had laughed and kissed the top of his head and told him how handsome he looked. When he thinks about it, he’s glad that Stiles has Scott. Scott may get a little self-involved, but he’s also a nice kid with a good heart, not someone who’d take advantage of Stiles’ kindness in a bad way. The same can’t be said about others.

Lately, Stiles has been in and around a group consisting of Scott, Allison Argent, Lydia Martin, Jackson Whittemore, and Derek Hale. Scott and Allison he has no problems with. That Whittemore kid, though, is an ass and Nathan’s disliked him since he pushed Stiles over on the playground in second grade and gave him a fat lip. Nathan’s pretty sure he’s continued to push Stiles around and insult him, Jackson just seems like the type. But Stiles never says anything, always lets that kind of stuff roll right off him. Nathan’s feelings about Lydia Martin are harder to define. Stiles has had a crush on her for so very long, even if Nathan’s always acted like he was ignorant of that fact. He’s been very grateful for that crush over the years. Stiles being so very curious, Nathan had been sure he’d try to be sexually active very early, but his crush and his loyalty to it seemed to keep him from exploring. Nathan has lived in dread of the day that Stiles would finally decide to move on. He wouldn’t blame him, Stiles has never really gotten anything back from her, not even with the date to the dance. The day Stiles moves on is when Nathan will have to worry about Stiles being protected from STDs, unwanted pregnancies, and heartbreak. Nathan is worried that Stiles has maybe already moved on and he’s upset about who he might have moved on to. Which brings him to Derek Hale.

It’s not that Derek Hale is male, although it does worry Nathan because there are homophobic asses out there. But that part seemed sort inevitable when Stiles had absently remarked on how hot an actor was on some show on TV. Nathan still doesn’t know if Stiles was clueing him in to his bisexuality or thought he’d already known. Nathan is glad that there are a few openly gay kids at school, there weren’t any when he went to high school and he can only imagine how isolating it must be not to know if there’s anyone like you around. And it’s not that he thinks Derek is a criminal (and how pissed had he been when Scott and Stiles had confessed to being mistaken about who attacked them at the school – he’d known there was something up, but they’d been so genuinely frightened, he’d just gone with it) or anything like that. Although, the fact that Stiles has sometimes seemed intimidated by Derek does bother him. Some of it is Derek’s age. Some of it’s his baggage. And some of it is just because, to Nathan, it seems so one-sided. Stiles dropping everything and rushing off when he’s called, Stiles always going to him with Derek never coming around here, and Stiles’ every mention of him involving something Derek wants or needs. Nathan hadn’t been happy about them even being friends and when he’d begun to suspect it might be something more, he’d come _this close_ to hunting Derek down and threatening him with all manner of things. But he’s the sheriff and he’s not sure.

God, he wishes Sabrina were here. He doesn’t know that she’d know what to do anymore than he does, but it _feels_ like she would. He knows that he has built her up in his mind some since her death. Stiles probably has, too. She had her faults – she may have been slow to temper, but she was slow to cool down, she always drove too fast, she was clumsy, tripping over nothing, bruising herself on furniture, she loved trashy reality TV shows, she always had to have the last word, and she often had trouble making up her mind. All of her faults, though, had faded in significance or even become endearing as time had passed. But she was a really good mother – he remembers Stiles being such a happy, confident kid. He’s still confident, in some ways, but it’s tempered with some insecurity, which is maybe just a part of growing up. Happy, though, actually happy on a sustained level, well, Nathan doesn’t think Stiles has been really happy in quite a while. Although, maybe, in the last few weeks, there’s been a… lightness to him. Nathan doesn’t really know what to think about that.

Nathan gathers up the reports and puts them away. He checks the doors and windows and turns off the lights and heads upstairs. He pauses at Stiles’ bedroom and quietly opens the door to check on him. Stiles isn’t there. He’d headed up to bed three hours ago. Nathan flips on the light and looks around the room. He spots Stiles’ phone on his desk. He grabs it and checks it. The last call received is from an unknown number and hadn’t lasted very long and the call before that is from Derek Hale. He blows out an angry breath. He leaves the room and heads downstairs. He grabs his holster, his keys, his wallet, and his jacket. He goes outside, locking the door behind him. He starts for his car and pauses when he sees Stiles Jeep. Stiles loves his Jeep, he rarely leaves it behind, even when he has to coast it down the road so Nathan doesn’t hear it start up (Nathan’s caught him at it once or twice). Nathan gets in his squad car and drives out to the Hale house.

Nathan gets out of the car and walks closer to the house. “Hale! Derek Hale! It’s Sheriff Stilinski, I need to talk to you!” Nathan yells at the burnt out edifice.

There’s nothing but silence.

Nathan’s not sure why he’d thought Derek would be out here, once he stops to think about it. He shakes his head and goes back over to the car and that’s when Derek seems to pop up out of the forest.

“Sheriff.”

“Where’s my son?” asks Nathan curtly.

Derek looks at him, confused. “I don’t know. I thought he was at home. That’s where he said he was the last time I talked to him.”

Nathan peers at him suspiciously. “And you’re sure he didn’t come looking for you?”

Derek shakes his head. “Did you check with Scott?”

“Scott’s at his father’s this weekend.”

“Right. Maybe Lydia or Allison. Or Jackson.”

“He didn’t take his Jeep or his phone.”

“He didn’t?” Derek asks, sounding concerned.

“No.” Nathan runs a hand through his hair, wondering where Stiles could be. He can’t imagine that he’s at Lydia’s, Allison’s, or Jackson’s, but maybe.

“Why did you think he was here?”

“There are only a few things Stiles would think are important enough to leave both his Jeep and his phone behind and sex is one of them,” Nathan says bluntly.

Derek’s eyes go wide. “We aren’t- We haven’t even-“ he breaks off and looks down. Then he looks up and meets Nathan’s gaze and says, “We’re not sleeping together.”

And Nathan believes him, but there is something going on between them. Now is not the time, though, he has to find Stiles. Nathan nods. “Sorry to have bothered you.” He goes to get in his car.

“Wait, I’ll help,” Derek says.

Nathan considers him for a moment and says, “Get in.”

They climb in the car and go. Nathan heads toward Lydia’s house, thinking it’s the most likely option. The atmosphere in the car is tense. Nathan figures since he already brought it up and Derek’s kind of stuck, he might as well go ahead and get everything out in the open. “Yet,” he says.

“What?”

“You’re not sleeping together, yet, right? I’m guessing the ‘We haven’t even-‘ ended with ‘kissed’. ‘Haven’t even’ implies that you’ve thought about it, that you want to.”

“I-“

“Except that doesn’t sound like Stiles. If you were dating, he would throw himself whole-heartedly into it and there would be kissing, even if you were waiting until he’s an _acceptable age_ to have sex. Unless… unless he doesn’t know you’re dating. Are you… _wooing_ my son?”

Derek turns a dull red.

Nathan snorts. He picks up Stiles’ phone and hands it to Derek. “Do you recognize the number of the last call received?”

Derek looks at it and Nathan could swear his eyes flash red. “I think something’s wrong,” Derek says gruffly.

“You recognize it?”

“No, just a feeling. I think we should go back to your house.”

“Why?”

“Like you said, Stiles wouldn’t leave this and his Jeep behind without an important reason.”

Nathan thinks it over. He really doesn’t think Stiles is at Lydia’s or Allison’s or Jackson’s, and if he is then he’s probably fine. If he isn’t, then there could be a trail going cold. He takes the next left and heads back to his house. He pulls up to the house.

Derek gets out and circles the house, Nathan follows him. Derek stops around the side and heads over to just beyond the edge of the yard. “I think someone was here.” Derek looks up at the house and nods at Stiles’ window. “Watching.”

“How do you know that?” Nathan asks, perplexed.

Derek looks down and points to a couple of cigarette butts.

Nathan doesn’t think he’d even looked at the ground before.

“Maybe we should split up,” Derek says.

It looks like he’s going to take off on foot. Nathan reaches out and grabs the sleeve of his jacket. “Not so fast.” 

And there, it looks like Derek’s eyes go red for a split-second.

Nathan stares at him. Red eyes. One of the reports about the animal attacks, there was something in it, something about red eyes. An animal that gets up and walks on two legs. Something like a wolf, but not. “Werewolf,” Nathan breathes out.

Derek jerks in surprise.

And it’s impossible, but it’s right. Nathan backs up a step and pulls his gun.

Derek holds up his hands and says, “Wait.”

“Get down on the ground, hands above your head.”

“I can help you find Stiles.”

“And then what, kill us both?”

Derek rolls his eyes.

“I will shoot you.”

“I’ll heal.”

That gives Nathan pause, because if the werewolf thing is real then maybe the silver bullet thing is, too. “You could be lying.”

“I could be, but I’m not. I don’t want to kill you. Or Stiles. It wasn’t me who killed those people.”

“Then who was it?”

“My uncle Peter.”

“Who was catatonic,” Nathan says skeptically.

“He’s a werewolf. He healed, but it took a while. And he lured Laura here and killed her to become Alpha. And then he killed everyone involved with the fire,” Derek says in a monotone.

“And what happened to him?”

“Him, I did kill, but he trying to kill us at the time.”

“Us?”

“Me.”

“No, I think you meant ‘us’. Another werewolf?”

Derek’s silent.

Nathan thinks about the people that are around Derek and oh, God. “Not Stiles?” he asks a little desperately.

“No.”

Nathan blows out a breath, relieved. “Scott. Who is asthmatic, but I can’t remember the last time I saw him use an inhaler. Who suddenly got so good at lacrosse that he’s co-captain. Scott. Which means that Stiles knows.” Nathan lowers his weapon, but doesn’t holster it. “Anybody else?”

Derek grimaces.

“You might as well tell me, I will figure it out.”

“Jackson. And Lydia’s something else.”

“Something else?”

“Something in-between. Peter attacked her, bit her and she didn’t die, but she didn’t heal and become a werewolf, either.”

“Bit her?”

“Werewolves can be born, like Peter, Laura, and I or they can be made by being given the bite.”

“Given the bite?”

Derek looks like the last thing he wants to do is explain all of this. “The bite is supposed to be gift, given only to those who want it, who ask for it, or it’s offered. The fire did something to Peter. He forced the bite on Scott and Lydia, trying to build his pack.”

“And Jackson?”

“Asked for it.”

“That’s a lot of information to take in,” Nathan says.

“I know. But right now, we should find Stiles.”

“How?”

“My senses are enhanced. I can follow a scent.”

Nathan holsters his gun. “Fine, let’s go. But I have a lot of questions.”

Derek nods.

“Wait, did you- Your eyes, when I gave you Stiles’ phone, what-“

“I smelled his fear,” Derek says solemnly.

“Oh, God.”

~~~

Nathan knows he shouldn’t be distracting Derek while he follows the scent, but he’s trying to distract himself from thinking about Stiles being taken, being hurt, so he asks about questions – about his family, about werewolves in general, about what an alpha is, about what a pack means, about how everyone fits in to it. Derek answers his questions, although he doesn’t elaborate much. Derek’s nose leads them to an old, small warehouse. It’s a good place to hide out for a couple of days. There’s very little activity in the area during the weekend. Maybe he should increase patrols. They get out of the car.

Derek cocks his head. “I can hear Stiles, he’s talking to someone.”

“Where?”

Derek leads him around the back. There’s a window and as Nathan gets closer, he can make out Stiles’ voice.

“Honestly, I don’t know. And, you know, you really don’t want to get caught kidnapping the sheriff’s kid. Not that you’re not good at it, I mean, getting my phone number, getting me to come to you by threatening my dad, that was really smart. But, dude, if you let me go now, I can make it home before he knows I was gone,” Stiles says.

“Yeah, right. If I let you go, you’ll go straight to the station,” a man’s voice says.

“Well, maybe, but it would take me some time to get there. You made me leave my phone behind. You could just leave town.”

“I’ve already got you here.”

“Yeah, but sooner or later, my dad is going to notice,” Stiles says.

“So, why don’t you just tell me what I want to know and I won’t have to hurt you anymore.”

Nathan clenches his fists and Derek makes a low rumbling sound that Nathan realizes with a start is an actual growl.

“Look, kid, all you have to do is tell me what I want to know. I go do it and then I make a call, tell them where you are. Simple,” the man says.

“You’ll call?” Stiles asks, sounding doubtful.

“Yeah, kid, I’m not a killer. And I don’t really like hurting people, but it usually gets results and I’ve never hurt anyone that bad. I just want to get my brother and get gone. How’s your dad going to feel if I rough you up some more? Wouldn’t he want you to cooperate?”

Stiles is quiet for a long moment and then he tells the man where the holding cells are, how to get to them, and then tells him where the key is. Except the location he gives isn’t where the key actually is and Stiles knows it, knows that when the man goes for it, he’ll probably set off an alarm.

“That’s better. And if you’re lying, I’ll come back here and I won’t be so nice. And if I get caught, I won’t tell them anything about where you are,” the man says.

“I’m not lying,” Stiles says. “Don’t get caught.”

Stiles sounds very convincing, if Nathan didn’t know any better, he’d believe him. Nathan gets back around to the front of the warehouse, Derek following. Nathan is waiting with his gun drawn when the man comes out. The take down is quick and easy. He gets the man in the back of his squad car while Derek goes into the warehouse and then heads in after Derek.

Stiles is near the back, tied to a chair, facing away from the door, Derek is kneeling next to him. The warehouse is mostly empty and Stiles’ voice echoes through it, “Oh my God, Derek, dude, I’m so glad you’re here,” relief and something warmer in his tone. “Get me out of here, we have to call my dad, call the station.”

“Stiles,” Derek says quietly. He reaches out and touches Stiles face.

“Looks pretty bad, huh?”

Derek eyes flash red and stay that way. He flicks out his fingers which have claws on them and slashes at the ropes tying Stiles to the chair and they fall away.

“Thanks,” Stiles says and stands up, turning around. His eyes go wide when he sees Nathan there. “Dad! This isn’t- Whoa.” Stiles lists to the side and Derek stands and grabs his arm with a hand that no longer has claws on it. “Dizzy.”

Nathan gets a good look at the bruises on Stiles’ face, which makes him want to go out and give the same to the guy in his squad car. He gets over to him and looks at him closely. “Stiles.”

“Dad.” Stiles is still sort of tilting, even with Derek holding onto him.

Derek pushes him gently back into the chair and peers into his eyes.

“Could you put away the, um, red eyes?” Stiles asks.

Derek blinks and his eyes are back to normal.

“I’m fine, just a little dizzy. Oh, oh, hey, Dad, there’s this guy and he’s going to-“

“We got him Stiles,” Nathan says.

Stiles looks up at Nathan and asks, “How come you’re not all asking questions about Derek’s, uh, Halloween costume?”

“Oh, nice try, kiddo,” Nathan says with a smile.

“Huh?” Stiles asks.

“I know all about werewolves. I know about Scott. I know about the pack. I know a lot of things now. Things _you_ didn’t tell me. And we’re going to have words about that, believe me,” Nathan says.

Stiles glares at Derek. “What, like, an hour in his company and you tell him all the secrets _ever_?”

Derek looks a little sheepish.

“He was a little worried about you,” Nathan says.

“He was?” Stiles asks, astonished and happy. Stiles looks at Derek. “You were?”

Derek shrugs.

And it looks like Nathan doesn’t have anything to worry about - at this rate, they won’t even get to the kissing before Stiles heads off to college. Nathan shakes his head. “Come on kiddo, let’s go to the hospital.”

“What? No, I’m fine.” Stiles stands up and then starts to tip over.

Nathan and Derek each grab an arm to keep him from falling.

“Or not,” Stiles says and just sort of sags into their hold.

“Hold on,” Derek says. He bends and lifts Stiles effortlessly into his arms, one arm around his back and one under his knees.

Nathan lets go of Stiles’ arm and follows Derek as he walks to the door.

“God, this is so embarrassing,” Stiles says, putting a hand over his face.

~~~

Nathan has a couple of deputies meet them at the hospital and hands custody of the man over to them. He briefs them on what he knows while Derek escorts Stiles inside, on his own two feet, this time. Stiles turns out to have a concussion and they want to keep him under observation for a few hours. Nathan sits in a chair, watching him sleep, once they get him settled in a room. If he tilts his head just right, he can see into the hall where Derek is standing. 

Nathan looks at the bruises on Stiles’ face and wishes his son weren’t so brave. He thinks about what he should do. He could move them away. Stiles wouldn’t hate him for it, he might even understand, but he would resent him and maybe that shouldn’t be a factor, but it is. And the second Stiles turned eighteen, he’d be back here. Of course, him being kidnapped had had nothing to do with werewolves (except for Derek’s help) and everything to do with Nathan being the sheriff. Well, he’ll hold the moving away in reserve. He’ll need to talk about everything with Stiles, make sure he’s got the whole story. Then he’ll need to come up with rules, both for the werewolf thing and maybe for the dating thing (if Derek ever actually asks – it’s possible that he’s a bad person for thinking he might find the whole wooing thing very entertaining). But, in the end, he thinks about how Stiles voice had sounded when Derek had gotten to him in that warehouse, how he’d looked when Nathan had told him that Derek was worried about him, and Nathan thinks this is something he’s going to have to get used to.


	23. I Need Something to Hold on To

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Prompt](http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/4407.html?thread=2758455#t2758455) by [](http://fotoshop_cutout.livejournal.com/profile)[**fotoshop_cutout**](http://fotoshop_cutout.livejournal.com/) : Derek/Stiles. Derek finds Stiles in a bush.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Picks up after the events in episode 2x03 (Ice Pick) and includes events in episode 2x04 (Abomination).
> 
> This was way before the reveal of Stiles' actual name, though it's not really spelled out in the fic where the other nickname comes from, it's from the fanon name of Genim (from Finstock's folder during the parent teacher conference in episode 1x05 (The Tell)).

Derek is angry, with Erica, yes, but more with himself. He should have been more specific about how to keep Stiles from Scott’s side. At this rate, they’ll never get Scott to join them – he’s a lot more upset about damage done to others than himself. Also, Stiles is useful, as an ally, as a source of information. They can’t afford to alienate him. They can intimidate him, but only up to a point and then Stiles will dig his heels in, regardless of whether it’s in his best interest to cooperate.

He’s tracking Stiles by scent. And he can’t say he’s pleased with Erica’s choice of a dumpster to leave Stiles in. Stiles’ scent is not offensive, but there’s a pervasive smell of decaying food stuffs overlaying it right now. Derek is becoming somewhat concerned. The scent trail is headed in the general direction of the Stilinski house, but there seems to be some weaving about. Hitting someone hard enough to knock them unconscious can have serious consequences.

The scent trail ends at a big bush, not far from the Stilinski house. Derek peers into it and catches sight of a flash of red fabric. He crouches and pushes some branches aside and Stiles is just sitting there, in the bush. Stiles blinks up at him. The bruise on his forehead looks pretty bad.

“Stiles, what are you doing?”

“I fell.”

Derek scowls. “Did you black out?”

Stiles eyes get wide. “You’re Derek Hale,” Stiles says like it’s a revelation.

Derek’s confused. “Yes.”

“When did you come back to town?”

Oh no. “Stiles, what’s today?”

“Wednesday.”

“The date.”

“October… sixth, right?” Stiles looks at Derek with a furrowed brow. “That’s not right, is it?”

Derek sighs. “You’re off by a few months… I hope. Come on.”

“Months?” Stiles puts a hand to his head. “Are we friends then?”

Derek hesitates, but eventually goes with a nod. He doesn’t really know how to explain the truth without giving everything away and he wants Stiles to trust him enough to come with him. He reaches out and Stiles takes his hand. Derek carefully extricates him from the bush. He gets Stiles out and standing. Derek heads them towards Stiles’ house. He’ll call Scott or get Stiles to call his dad when they get there. Someone will make sure Stiles gets checked out by a doctor.

“Like before?” Stiles asks, Derek’s hand on his shoulder making sure he doesn’t veer off.

“What?”

“Are we friends like before?”

“Before?”

“When I was Pack,” Stiles says.

Derek stops, bringing Stiles to a stop with him. “Pack?” he asks.

“It’s just us, I can use that word, right? I know I’m not supposed to use it around other people, especially your family. I won’t. Or, wait, is it not like that?”

“What? Stiles, I-“ Derek stops, suddenly having a thought, “Stiles, _Stiles_.” 

“Yeah?”

“When did you get that name?”

“Oh, um, second grade. After you stopped letting me hang out with you. You used to call me-“

“Nim,” Derek interrupts, memories flooding back. He remembers a friend of his mom’s bringing over a babbling toddler, who did his best to follow Derek around, even though he was barely walking. He remembers the almost-words turning into actual words and the words going from annoying to normal. He remembers rescuing Nim from trees and various animals that he had just had to pet. He remembers Nim’s scent becoming familiar. He remembers telling Nim that he’s Pack (he didn’t say anything about werewolves, but he did explain what Pack meant) and swearing him to secrecy. He remembers his parents finding out somehow and gently explaining to him that Nim was too young to understand what being Pack really meant. He remembers being angry and feeling lost and knowing that if Nim couldn’t be Pack, Derek couldn’t be around him. He remembers cutting him out of his life, like cutting something vital out of himself. He remembers pushing all of it out of his mind ruthlessly, so much so that that the memories rushing through his mind are almost too much to handle. He remembers.

“Yeah. My mom told me that I was too young for you to want to be around as you got older. That it wasn’t your fault, it was just growing up,” Stiles says, sounding a little bitter. “I guess I’m old enough now, right?” he asks brightly.

No wonder Stiles had gotten under his skin. Derek may not have realized it, but the sense memory was there – poking at him, irritating him, scent familiar, but not the same. Which he’d maybe taken out on Stiles. Derek looks at Stiles, considering. “Old enough to make a choice.”

Stiles squints at him.

Derek starts walking again, guiding Stiles along. It doesn’t take long before they’re back at Stiles’ house. He gets Stiles in and settled on the couch. “Call your dad. Tell him you hit your head and you’re having problems with your memory,” Derek says and pauses, grimacing, “Don’t mention me.”

“Why not?”

Derek debates what to tell him and ends up with, “There was a misunderstanding. My being here might… worry your father.”

Stiles looks a little suspicious, but shrugs and says, “Okay.”

Stiles makes the call. Derek waits with him until he can hear the sheriff coming. He slips out of the house without the sheriff seeing him.

~~~

It takes a couple of days before Stiles is back to normal with pretty much all of his memories intact. Days that Derek spends going over his own memories. Derek wonders if maybe losing his family again and again and again isn’t the only reason he needs a pack so badly. He holds too tightly to the idea of a pack being idyllic – he knows this, but he can’t seem to help it.

Stiles is so far apart from the Nim in his mind, Derek can’t really think of them as the same. Nim had been Pack, whatever his parents had said and he recognizes that now. With Nim, it had been simple. Things with Stiles are horribly complicated, partly due to Derek’s own actions. He wants Stiles in his pack. Which he should have realized before. The power of being Alpha had gone to his head. He’s still having trouble with it, but hopefully, as the pack, his pack, settles, he’ll be able to even out. He wants Stiles in his pack. And he wants more.

There had been something, some frisson, between him and Stiles. Derek had been used to ignoring that kind of thing, sublimating it, because of Kate. He still doesn’t know how far to trust Stiles (mostly because Stiles doesn’t really trust Derek – not that Derek can really blame him for that). Stiles will try to do the right thing – the problem is, what Stiles thinks is right and what Derek thinks is right don’t always mesh. Derek can’t always figure out which way Stiles will jump. And he doesn’t know how Stiles will react to Derek’s wants.

Stiles’ scent around Derek is full of such a mixture of conflicting emotions – curiosity always, anger sometimes, fear sometimes, confusion occasionally, and so many other things. Arousal, for one, although it doesn’t mean much. Something about Derek could just trip Stiles’ switches. Of course, it does mean there is a possibility of something. Stiles’ scent also sometimes holds something that makes Derek think he’s laughing at Derek, inside his head. Laughing at Derek’s arrogance, his hubris, laughing at his thinking he has any real control. Or maybe Derek’s projecting. Scent can be deceptively enlightening. It can tell you what, it can’t really tell you why.

Derek needs to talk to Stiles, he needs to see if there’s any chance that Stiles will be part of his pack, and he needs to know if there’s any chance for more. He’ll take whatever he can get, but only if Stiles is sure. Derek can’t have him and lose him. He can’t do that again.

~~~

Derek taps on Stiles’ bedroom window. Stiles comes over to it and looks at him, frowning, for a long moment. Derek can smell curiosity, wariness, anger, and a little fear. Stiles opens the window and gestures him in. Derek climbs into the room and Stiles goes over and sits on his desk chair. Derek sits on the bed. Derek looks at the fading bruise on Stiles’ head and says, “I didn’t mean for Erica to hurt you. I should have made sure she understood what I wanted her to do.”

“Oh, well, that makes it all better then,” Stiles says acerbically.

Derek’s eyes flash red and Stiles’ fear spikes a little. Derek closes his eyes, willing them back to normal. He opens them and says plainly, “I’m sorry.”

Stiles looks him up and down. “Are you dying? Did you get shot again?”

“No. I’m trying to apologize.”

“Huh.”

Derek waits, but Stiles doesn’t say anything else. Derek moves on. “I didn’t remember you.”

Stiles looks at him with a twisted smile. “I had actually figured that one out for myself.”

“And you annoyed me when I got back here-“

Stiles snorts. “Figured that one out, too.”

Derek glares at him. “Your scent was familiar, but not. It… irritated me.”

“Do scents change?” Stiles asks curiously.

“Yes. Hormones cause a lot of changes.”

“Oh.”

“My parents told me that you were too young to understand what Pack meant.”

“And so you stopped it.”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

“I want you in my pack.”

Stiles laughs derisively “Wow. Why? You think you’ll get Scott to follow me?”

That would just be a bonus in Derek’s opinion. “Scott might follow you, it’s true, but that’s not why. I want _you_ in my pack.”

“Because I used to tag along after you when I was little? Sorry, I don’t want to be a werewolf.”

“You don’t have to be.” Although Derek wouldn’t mind turning him.

“And what guarantee would I have that you wouldn’t get tired of me or decide I was too weak or some other stupid thing and drop me? You did it so easily before.”

Derek is incensed. “ _Easily?_ There was nothing _easy_ about it. I had to lock all of those memories away – I couldn’t even stand to think about it. It was like cutting-“

“Off an arm? Because you said you could heal from that.”

Derek’s claws pop out. Stiles can be so frustrating. He reins in his wolf, retracting the claws. “I wouldn’t die, if that’s what you mean. As for healing… I was young, too. I thought my parents knew what they were talking about. I think they were wrong. You were Pack and you should have stayed that way. I was so…” Lonely, lost, hurt, not whole – all of those fit, but he can’t say any of them to Stiles, he can’t be that vulnerable to him, not yet. “I didn’t handle it well.”

“Oh. But why do you want me in your pack now? You don’t even like me.”

“If anything, I like you too much. You would be an asset to the pack. You’re loyal, brave, and smart.”

“What? Since when do you think so? You’ve never- Wait, too much? What do you mean ‘too much’?”

Derek reaches out and pulls Stiles, in his chair, closer. “I think you know what I mean.”

Stiles swallows hard, his arousal scenting the air. “Um, I-“

“But we can talk about that later. Having you in my pack would help the pack, would help me. I know that I’ve been difficult to deal with.”

“ _Difficult to deal with?_ You’ve been an _ass_.”

“I was never supposed to be an alpha. I’ve had… issues with control. All this power, it can be hard to channel. Pack can help with this. Right now, Isaac, Erica, and Boyd are having their own power issues. It can be intoxicating. You could help us all. Keep us all grounded. Pull us back from doing anything stupid.”

“That’s blatant manipulation.”

“Yes. Is it working?”

“No. Maybe. Would I really be able to do that?”

“To a point, yes.”

“Crap.” Stiles is quiet for a long moment. “You know, I used to have such a little kid cr- case of hero worship for you. I used to think you were so awesome. I don’t know what to think of you now.”

Derek looks at him. “Well, let me know when you make up your mind.” He pushes Stiles’ chair back and gets up. He goes to the window and climbs out. He turns back to see Stiles watching him with a pensive expression. He gives a little wave and jumps down to the ground.

~~~

Derek hasn’t heard from Stiles. Stiles doesn’t come to him even when that creature kills someone in front of him. So Derek goes to him. And he brings Erica, to show her the right way to deal with Stiles. Stiles isn’t on the bench where he usually is during a game. They track him into the school. Derek sends Erica to fetch him, making sure to tell her what’s acceptable and what’s not. She drags him to the pool by the ear. Stiles acts like their talk never happened. He seems reluctant to talk about the creature, but Derek needs information. He pops the basketball with his claws, mostly as a show for Erica. Stiles seems to know this, but starts talking anyway. Then the creature shows up.

Derek tells Stiles to run and he does, but he turns back. And when Derek falls in the pool, paralyzed by the creature, Derek isn’t surprised when Stiles jumps in after him. He is surprised when Stiles lets him go to go after the phone, but he shouldn’t be. Stiles really doesn’t like being told what to do. Stiles grabs him again just before he runs out of air. Stiles treads water for a while. Derek knows Stiles is getting tired, knows he isn’t going to be able to do this much longer. Where is Erica? He hopes she’s just unconscious. Maybe he should get Stiles to let him go, this time for real. Stiles could tread water longer if he didn’t have to hold Derek up. But then what? Stiles swims for the starting block handholds and can’t quite get a hold and then they both go under. Derek thinks of all the things he could have said to Stiles, should have said to Stiles. Instead, he’d told Stiles that he didn’t trust him. 

Then Derek’s out of the water and Stiles is out of the water and Scott is fighting the creature. Derek finally gets some of the feeling back in his limbs. The creature reacts to its reflection and something pings in his mind. Kanima – shape-shifter, spirit of death. It rushes out through the skylight.

He tells Scott and Stiles what he knows. Scott somehow thinks the hunters won’t turn on them the second they can. But he is right about no one trusting anyone. The kanima needs to be stopped. It came after Stiles twice. It’s only as Derek walks away that he realizes he never thanked Stiles. He wants to turn back, but he can’t.

~~~

Derek finds Stiles about ready to fall into the same bush again. Derek had decided that he should try to talk to Stiles instead of leaving it like he had. He grabs Stiles as he stumbles. “What’s wrong with you?”

Stiles looks at him in exasperation. “Some of us don’t have special werewolf-y healing. I just tread water for two hours, keeping your heavy ass from drowning.”

“Where’s Scott?”

“He dropped me off down the street. He had to go pick up his mom.”

Derek guides Stiles along, like last time. “Thank you.”

“What?”

“Thank you, for keeping my heavy ass from drowning.”

“Oh, well, you’re welcome, I guess.”

“Have you thought any more about what we talked about?”

“Of course.”

“And?”

“And what? Do I want to be part of your pack? I don’t know. Do I want to talk about the thing that we didn’t talk about? I don’t know. Do I want the universe to give me a break and not have something traumatic and/or life-threatening happen every few days? Yes, yes, I do.”

Derek huffs out a little laugh. “Can’t help you there. The universe doesn’t really seem to be on my side, either.”

“Derek, the thing we didn’t talk about? You didn’t just say that to get me in your pack, right? Scott says he can smell when someone’s… turned on. So, you could tell when I-“ Stiles breaks off, blushing a little.

“Got aroused? Yes. But, no, that wasn’t to get you in my pack. I’m not saying that I haven’t used seduction to get what I want, I have. But that’s not what this is about.”

“Why should I believe that?”

“I said I liked you too much. That’s hardly seduction. I didn’t use it as an enticement or an incentive. And I’ve never used seduction on you to get what I wanted.” And Derek could have, easily. Except, this thing between them, even when he didn’t want to acknowledge it, was more important than that.

“Right, threats seem to be your default for me,” Stiles says as they reach his house. He unlocks the door and goes inside, Derek following. Stiles collapses on the couch, groaning.

“Stiles, I want you in my pack and I want you. They’re separate.”

“Are they really?”

“As much as they can be.”

“So I could say yes to one and no to the other and you would be okay with that?”

“Yes,” Derek says, trying for conviction, but missing.

“Liar.”

“I’m not- Nobody likes rejection. I wouldn’t like it, but I would accept it.”

“No, you wouldn’t. If I said yes to one, you would try, in your Derek way, to get me to say yes to the other.”

Stiles may be right. Derek doesn’t like being told no. “I might try to persuade you to change your mind.”

Stiles laughs and then sobers, looking at Derek. “But you don’t trust me.”

“I shouldn’t have said that.”

“It’s true though, isn’t it?”

“Trust is hard for me. There are people I trusted that I shouldn’t have. I do trust that you’ll do what you think is right. I trust you more than most. You do keep proving yourself pretty trustworthy.”

Stiles considers that and nods. “If, _if_ I said yes, there would be conditions.”

Derek lets himself hope a little. “Name them.”

“You can’t hurt Scott. Unless he’s, like, actively trying to kill you, then you can defend yourself.”

Pack, Stiles is talking about saying yes to being in the pack, that’s something. It shouldn’t be at all disheartening. “Okay.”

“And you need to rein Erica in, seriously.”

“I told you there were issues.”

“Hmm. Um, I’ve never, uh, dated? Is that what we weren’t talking about, but now are?”

“Dating, yes.” Hope wells up again.

“I’ve never, um, with- I’m a- I’ve never had-“

“Sex with a guy?”

“With anyone. Nobody has ever even wanted to kiss me,” Stiles says wistfully.

“That’s not true.”

“Oh, well, I guess you do. But even though you’re really hot, you are kind of weird.”

“I wasn’t talking about me. The reason Erica hit you so hard is because you wouldn’t look at her the way she wanted you to. And that Greenburg kid always smells like arousal when he gets near you. And there’s that girl, short, light brown hair, always chewing some sort of mint gum.”

“Michelle?”

“Michelle. And, of course, Jackson.”

“ _Jackson?_ ”

“Didn’t you ever wonder why he postures so much in front of you?”

“No, I did not,” Stiles says emphatically.

Derek shrugs, a little amused. “Sometimes you don’t notice the signals other people put out.”

“No super senses, remember?”

“It’s not just scent, it’s also observation, which you are perfectly capable of.”

“Not always. Sometimes I can’t focus on any one thing and sometimes I’m super focused on just one and I can’t pay attention to anything else.”

“I wouldn’t mind being the object of that super focus.”

Stiles goes bright red and the scent of arousal drifts from him.

Derek decides to push it a little further. “Especially if it involves your mouth.”

Instead of blushing brighter, like he expects, Stiles just looks thoughtful. The scent of arousal gets heavier.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Lick- Nothing. Um, what were we talking about?”

Derek would really rather talk about licking, but Stiles hasn’t actually agreed to anything yet. “Conditions.”

“Oh, yeah. Um, I think that’s it.”

“Don’t hurt Scott and keep Erica under control – that’s all?”

“And, um, go slow, I guess,” Stiles says, looking embarrassed.

Derek looks at Stiles, confused. And then he gets it. Stiles hasn’t had any sort of relationship, at all, before. “I can do that.”

“Then, yes.”

“To dating?”

Stiles nods. “And being Pack.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Stiles says, certainty in his voice.

Derek smiles. With Stiles’ acceptance, Derek can feel him lock into place in the pack. “Good. Good.” Derek sits down next to him. “How slow do you want to go?”

“Um, I don’t know.”

“What do you think about kissing?”

“I’m in favor of it.”

“Good.” Derek slides a hand around the back of his neck and pulls him into a kiss. Stiles is frozen for a few seconds before he starts to respond. Stiles really is new to this, but he’s a quick learner. But even if he wasn’t, Derek’s got all the time in the world to teach him.


	24. Just Have to Find a Better Way of Communicating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Prompt](http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/4407.html?thread=2790455#t2790455): Allison/Scott/Stiles. Stiles gets tired of being the go-between and declares that he'd rather be the between.

Stiles just gapes at Scott as he pulls back from kissing him. Kissing Stiles. With tongue. And then Scott is smiling. Scott says, “Okay, so you have to do it exactly like that to Allison. Exactly, okay?”

Stiles nods dazedly and Scott leaves before Stiles realizes that, no, he shouldn’t be agreeing. Stiles had been joking when he’d told Scott that if he was going to be the go-between for Scott and Allison that he should get some perks, like actually going between Scott and Allison, wink, wink, nudge, nudge, hint, hint. Okay, so he’d been ninety percent joking, well, maybe seventy-five percent, anyway, _mostly_ joking. And he hadn’t meant this, he doesn’t think. He’s pretty sure, innuendo-wise, he’d meant something more, you know, happy-fun-times with all three of them.

Stiles goes to find Allison. They’re in an out of the way corner of the library. Stiles says, “Um, so, Scott wanted me to give you something.”

Allison smiles happily. “Okay.”

Stiles reaches out and puts a hand on her face, like Scott had done to him. He leans in, pausing just before their lips meet, sure she’s going to balk. She doesn’t, so he presses his lips to hers. She opens her mouth and he almost forgets what to do, but then he tries to kiss her exactly like Scott had kissed him. He pulls back and waits for her reaction.

Allison blinks at him and then dimples up. “Oh, well, I’ve got something for him, too.” She pulls Stiles back in and holy God, _her tongue_ and the things she can do with it. And then she puts her hand on his knee and slides it up. He maybe, maybe, squeaks when she cups him through his pants. He definitely gets hard. She strokes her thumb up and down the cloth-covered length of his dick and he shudders. She pulls back from the kiss and then slowly slides her hand away. “You’ll give that to him, right? Just like that. All of it.”

Stiles can’t make his mouth form words for a few seconds. “Right,” he finally stutters out.

Allison smiles at him, grabs the book she was reading and gets up.

Stiles can’t decide if this is some sort of game that Scott and Allison are playing that he doesn’t know the rules to or if it’s just an extension of what came before. And then there are handjobs and blowjobs. Then there’s Scott teaching him how to eat Allison out, which, _awkward_ , because Stiles doesn’t have anything that works well as an analog, so there are picture drawn that look like an alien (seriously, Stiles knew Scott couldn’t draw that well, but oh my God), but Stiles hunts down some diagrams that are, yeah, a little clinical, but accurate (and honestly, probably the least embarrassing sex-related thing in his internet history) and they go from there.

After a while Stiles starts to notice that he’s getting looks from a few rather specific people. Sort of smirking ones of approval from Erica, curious ones from Boyd, and frowning ones from Isaac. It takes some time for him to realize that they must be smelling Scott and Allison on him. And it would be nice if the werewolves around here had a little more common courtesy and kept their noses to themselves. Or if they couldn’t do that, then at least they could pretend. Then there’s Jackson, who sees the tail end of an encounter with Allison and just remarks, “Nice,” with an arched eyebrow. Ass. But it’s not until Derek shows up (in his bedroom, like the creepy person he is), that Stiles realizes what they’re all thinking.

“You need to stop before somebody gets hurt,” Derek says bluntly.

Stiles has a reply to that really wants to come out, something about how _he’s_ not the one who likes to hurt people, but he can’t figure out what Derek is talking about, so what actually comes out is, “I’m sorry?” 

“You and Scott. You and Allison.”

“Wow, how is that _any_ of your business? And why do you even care?”

Derek gets up in his space, eyes going red. “I care because _he’s a werewolf and she’s a hunter_. If they find out, there will be hurt and anger and the situation around here is unstable enough as it is.”

“Find out?”

“About you being with the other. I don’t know how they’re justifying cheating on each other, but I can guarantee if either of them figure out what you’re doing, it will not end well.”

Stiles’ mind is kind of stuck and he can’t get it unstuck enough to respond. Because, really, everyone thinks Allison and Scott are _cheating_? With _him_? They think Scott and Allison would do that? They think he would do that?

“Just stop it,” Derek says after a long moment and then he goes to the window and climbs out.

“Really, thanks for your concern. I’ll take your suggestion under advisement,” Stiles calls out after him. Stiles is kind of insulted on Scott’s behalf. Like Scott couldn’t also tell what the other wolves could. Like Scott would just accept whatever explanation Stiles would give (okay, well, maybe he would because he _trusts_ Stiles, but since Stiles would never do that, it’s a moot point).

~~~

It should be awesome. Getting all this attention and sex stuff from two really nice and wildly attractive people. And it kind of is. But Stiles isn’t really built for this – for how casual it is. He wants more than that, he needs more than that. Because he loves Scott, Scott is his best friend, but now when Stiles sees him, he gets this warm, gooey feeling in his chest. And when Allison smiles at him, his heart beats a little faster. He spends a not inconsiderable amount of time mooning (he doesn’t know what else to call it) over one or the other or both of them. This is why he can’t have fun things, his feelings just get all over everything.

Crap, Derek was right. Somebody is going to get hurt. Except he was wrong about the who. It’s going to be Stiles when Scott and Allison get tired of him. And they will, because everybody does, eventually. Stiles doesn’t think they’ll dump him as a friend because they’re both way too nice. But sometimes awkwardness can be hard to work around (and there’s always awkwardness, if not hurt and anger, when something ends). Stiles is a boss at repressing and ignoring things though, so he’ll make it work. Because he has to. He’ll hide his hurt and be the best friend he knows how to be and keep everything from going ballistic. Stand between Scott and certain disaster the way only he can.

Apparently, Lydia agrees with his assessment of who is going to get hurt, if the softly muttered, “Be careful,” and the troubled look she gives him, as he’s heading off to see Allison after getting a ‘message’ from Scott for her, are anything to go by. 

He tries to give her a bright smile, make her think he’s got everything under control, but Lydia’s pretty good at seeing through him and just gives him a small, sad smile back.

The thing is, he’s decided that he’ll just take what he can get for as long as he can. He could start trying to pull away, brace himself for the inevitable crash landing, but no amount of bracing is going to help, so he might as well enjoy the ride. He’ll spend time with Scott and then spend time with Allison, do everything twice. He wonders if they ever talk about him when they have their secret meetings that he totally doesn’t want to be invited to (okay, maybe, he does, a little, or maybe a lot).

~~~

Scott’s doing one of his favorite things, licking the taste of Allison off of Stiles’ fingers (Stiles had quickly learned not to clean himself up after being with Allison because he kind of likes this, too). Although, Scott actually seems to enjoy sucking on his fingers regardless of how much of Allison’s… contributions were left behind. Stiles kind of wonders why nobody told him before how much of a turn on having his fingers sucked would be.

Scott pauses and says, “Hey, come by my place tonight, okay? Tell your dad you’re spending the night. Mom’s on night shifts this week, she won’t be home until morning.” Then he goes back to sucking on Stiles’ index finger.

Stiles shudders a little and says, “I thought you and Allison were meeting tonight? But, yeah, okay. Like, eight?”

Scott pulls off with a slight popping sound. “Eight’s good,” he says and grins.

~~~

Stiles opens the door to Scott’s house (if Scott’s mom were home he would have given a quick courtesy knock… if he’d actually remembered to) and walks in. “Honey, I’m home,” he calls out.

There’s no answer so he heads up to Scott’s room. As he walks into the room, he says, “So, what are we-“ stopping at the sight of Scott and Allison on the bed, making out, Scott half on top of Allison. They’re half-clothed, Scott still has his pants on and Allison is still in her skirt and bra, the rest of their clothes on the floor. “Oh, uh, I can, uh, come back later.”

Scott pulls back a little from Allison and turns his head toward Stiles. “Funny, Stiles. We started without you, you have to catch up. Come here.”

Stiles’ brain stutters, but his feet move him forward. He stumbles a little as he reaches the bed.

As he moves to climb on the bed Allison holds up a hand. “Wait,” Allison says, “shoes off.”

“Right,” Stiles says and kicks them off and then takes his socks off too.

“Shirts,” Scott says as he kisses Allison’s neck. And Stiles thinks that’s a pretty bizarre thing to say to her, but maybe it’s code or an inside joke or something. Then Scott looks up at him and says, “Stiles, shirts.”

Or he could want Stiles to take off his shirts. Stiles pulls off his plaid button down and the hesitates, fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt. It’s just, he’s kind of pale, especially compared to Scott, and he’s got some muscle tone, but it’s lean muscle and he’s knows he’ll just look scrawny, especially compared to Scott, and he’s got some hair (which he’d never really thought of as a bad thing until he’d seen everybody else – Derek, Jackson, Danny, with their smooth bare chests and abdomens) and now he’s sort of self-conscious about it, especially compared to Scott.

“Stiles?” Scott is giving him a confused look.

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” Stiles says and whips off the t-shirt, getting it over with. Stiles climbs onto the bed and hovers a little bit, not sure where he fits in. They haven’t done anything like this before. Up until now, it’s been one of them showing him what to do to the other and he’s not sure how to take the initiative. He reaches out and runs a hand lightly down Scott’s back, then strokes along Allison’s side.

“Wait, stop, this is all wrong,” Scott says.

Allison nods.

Stiles swallows thickly, dread in his stomach. He pulls his hands away. This is it, they’re going to tell him that it’s been fun, but they don’t need him here. They don’t need him at all. He starts to back up off the bed.

Scott is backing up too, off of Allison. “Come on, Stiles,” he says, waving him over.

“What?” Stiles asks, bewildered.

Allison smiles up at him. “Get in the middle.”

“Yeah, that’s where you’re supposed to be,” Scott says.

Stiles looks at the space they’ve left between them and then has to look down because of the sudden sting of tears he doesn’t want them to see. He blinks rapidly, running a hand over his head.

“Stiles?” Scott asks, concerned.

Stiles doesn’t say anything, swallowing hard, willing the tears back.

“Stiles?” Scott asks in his gentlest voice, the one he uses on injured baby animals.

Crap, Stiles forgot, Scott can probably smell it. And then Scott is manhandling him gently to lay down on his side on the bed between them. Stiles squeezes his eyes shut as Scott wraps himself around Stiles’ back while Allison encloses him from the front.

“What’s wrong?” Allison’s worried voice asks.

“I just-“ Stiles says and stops as his voice breaks.

“Stiles, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” Scott says, his voice soft and upset.

Stiles clears his throat and says, “It’s not that. I thought my part of this was over already. I wasn’t prepared for it. Yet.”

There’s a loaded silence and then he feels pressure against his forehead. He opens his eyes and he’s looking right into Allison’s unhappy eyes, her forehead pressed to his. “Already? Yet? Stiles, we’re not going to just… throw you out or something.”

“Of course not,” Stiles says.

Allison relaxes a little and smiles tentatively at him and he can feel Scott relax, too.

“You’re much too nice for that. I know you’ll be gentle about ending it,” Stiles continues, trying for a detached tone, but there’s little bit of a wobble in his voice at the end.

Stiles is suddenly on his back, Scott over him, his eyes glowing yellow. Stiles’ heart skips. “Stiles, you aren’t disposable,” he growls out.

“Right, sure,” Stiles says and he can hear the lack of conviction in his own voice.

The glow dies out of Scott’s eyes and his brown eyes are pained. “I, I know I haven’t always been the best friend to you. I know that some of the things I’ve done have made it seem like you’re not as important to me as Allison. But you are. It’s not me and Allison and then you. It’s us, all of us, the three of us together. It’s real. You’re not just a, a temporary add-on. We’re like, we’re like The Three Bears.”

Stiles is surprised into a semi-hysterical laugh.

“Oh, Scott,” Allison says from beside them, giggling.

“Did you mean The Three Musketeers?” Stiles asks, trying to contain himself

Scott looks a little affronted. “No! I meant The Three Bears. With Goldilocks?”

“With Mama and Papa and Baby Bear? Which one of us is which?” Stiles asks.

“Yeah, Scott, which one of us is which?” Allison asks with a huge smile.

“I didn’t mean _that_. Not, not really. I just, okay, look, Stiles, you’re just right, that’s all.”

“Oh,” Stiles says quietly.

Allison beams at Scott. “Stiles.” Allison uses a finger to turn his head all the way to the side so that he’s looking directly into her eyes. “Scott and I, we’ve done things, you know, hands and mouths, but we’ve never… gone all the way,” she wrinkles her nose at the turn of phrase, “Because we were waiting. For it to be right. Here, with you, it’s right. And we maybe have those same serious communications issues my family does because you should have known that. We should have told you. No, we should have asked you.”

“Yes. I mean, if you’re asking, then yes. To, like, everything. Seriously, yes,” the words trip over each other as Stiles tries to get them out as fast as he can.

Allison kisses him. And it’s a sweet kiss that quickly turns hot and then gets more involved the longer it goes on. By the time they pull back, they’re both panting a little. Scott’s watching them with dilated eyes, his nostrils flaring. His gaze bounces back and forth between Stiles’ and Allison’s mouths. Finally, he just leans down and licks at Stiles’ lips and then he leans over and does the same to Allison. Then he rolls off of Stiles and attacks the zipper on his pants. Stiles and Allison look at each other and then Allison goes for her skirt and Stiles goes for his pants and soon they’re all in their underwear. Allison looks at Scott and Stiles and then undoes her bra and tosses it away. Stiles stares for a second because hey, breasts, and then gathers his courage and slips out of his boxers. Scott slips out of his underwear, too. And then Allison gets rid of her panties. They all look at each curiously, their previous encounters being, by necessity, mostly rushed and in places without the best lighting.

Then Scott gets up and goes to his dresser. Stiles stares at his ass and he blushes a little when he sees Allison watching him. She just winks, though. Scott digs through a drawer and pulls out a box and turns back toward the bed. “Condoms!” he says as he brandishes the box triumphantly. He comes back over and sits down on the bed, fishing two packets out of the box and setting them on the bed before putting the box on the nightstand. Then he looks at Stiles and asks, “So, you still want to be between us?” Scott waggles his eyebrows, but he is actually asking.

Stiles thinks about it and says, “Okay, yes,” nervous, but definite.

Turns out, three people can be a little hard to coordinate. They try it on their sides, but they can’t synchronize and Scott’s dick keeps slipping out of Stiles (they may have used too much lube) when Stiles tries to move into Allison. It’s very frustrating. They finally end up with Allison on her elbows and knees with Stiles over her on his hands and knees and Scott kneeling behind Stiles. It seems to work pretty well, especially when Scott reaches around and runs his fingers lightly over Allison’s clit. Allison has two orgasms (unfair) and Stiles manages to wait until Scott is coming and then it’s about the most amazing thing ever. Stiles has trouble not collapsing, but Scott holds him up and eventually gets them all disconnected and lying apart on the bed (werewolf strength is awesome). They clean up a little and then lie back down. Stiles maybe spends some time just smiling up at nothing. He might be a little sore tomorrow, but he doesn’t care. He’s already trying to figure out new positions to try for next time.

“Scott, set your alarm. I need to wake up and get out of here before your mom gets back,” Allison says.

“Yeah, Scott, you don’t want your mom asking who’s been sleeping in _your_ bed,” Stiles says. He’s completely expecting the pillow that hits him in the face. Allison laughs until she’s breathless as Scott sets the alarm. She’s still laughing as Stiles drifts off to sleep.


	25. Until It Just Goes Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Prompt](http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/3353.html?thread=2397209#t2397209): Gen or Derek/Stiles, Joined at the hip, LITERALLY Okay, what if for some strange reason Derek and Stiles get into some kind of situation, and they're temporarily 'stuck' to each other? Like some glue voodoo or something? I dunno I keep seeing prompts about mental bonding and the image came to mind XD the details are totally up to the author. You could have them established, gen, whatever! I just want Derek and Stiles stuck like glue, and struggling to survive the ordeal <3

Derek yanks ineffectually at the many ropes tying him down. He doesn’t know what the ropes are made of or what these hunters might have done to them. All he knows is that he can’t break free and that they are sapping most of his strength. He lets himself sag as the only hunter in the room gets called out of it for some reason. The hunter had been doing something over in the part of the room they have set up as a lab and hadn’t really been paying any attention to Derek, but Derek won’t allow himself to show any weakness if he can help it. He wonders why they haven’t killed him yet. It’s worrisome that it might be because they’ve got something else planned, something to do with whatever they’re brewing up.

Derek doesn’t know if anyone even realizes he’s missing yet. He’s been here for a little less than a day and it may take a while before anyone starts to look. Scott’s actually pretty good at tracking, but the longer Derek’s gone, the more the trail will fade.

There’s a scraping noise at the door. Someone’s coming back. Except the door opens very slowly and then Stiles’ head peeks in. Stiles quickly steps into the room and quietly shuts the door. He rushes over to Derek, pulls out a pocket knife and starts cutting at the ropes, flicking his gaze between the ropes and Derek’s face. Derek stares at him, thinking this isn’t real, this is his mind playing tricks on him. But he doesn’t disappear and Derek can feel it as one of the ropes falls away.

“What are you doing here?” Derek asks quietly.

“I’m here to rescue you, princess. Duh,” Stiles whispers.

Derek shuts his eyes and counts to ten because losing control and yelling would be a bad idea. Derek opens his eyes and glares at Stiles. Stiles doesn’t react, he just keeps sawing away. “There’s something on or in the ropes,” Derek says.

“Yeah, it’s some sort of concoction with, like, aconite and mercury in it.”

Derek frowns at Stiles, wondering how he knows that.

“I heard them talking about it when I was eavesdropping, trying to find out where they had you. I actually had to follow one of them out here, but I had to wait until they left you alone, sorry.”

Derek grunts. He should really be thanking Stiles, but what comes out is, “You shouldn’t be here. What if they catch you? And where is everyone else?”

Stiles narrows his eyes and stops cutting. “Hey, you’re right, I hadn’t thought of that. I’ll just go then and you can wait for someone else to come along and save your little werewolf ass,” Stiles says, sarcasm heavy in his tone.

Derek growls a little.

Stiles goes back to cutting. “Quit being such a sourwolf. I called and nobody picked up, so I left messages, but nobody called back. I didn’t think it could wait since they were talking about packing up and leaving tonight.”

“They were going to move me?”

Stiles pauses and meets his gaze for a long moment before focusing back on what he’s doing. “No,” he says shortly. Stiles finally cuts through enough of the six or seven separate ropes binding Derek that he can pull himself loose.

Derek stands up and stumbles a little. Then he pulls himself upright, standing straight, not wanting a watching Stiles to think he’s not able. “Let’s go.”

Stiles puts the knife away, walking beside Derek to the door, tense and almost hovering, like he expects Derek to fall. Which, it turns out, is not unfounded. Derek’s a little lightheaded and he lurches into one of the tables being used in the little lab set-up. He knocks over a few containers. Nothing breaks, but he does get something on his hand. He recoils and bumps into Stiles. He almost knocks Stiles down, but catches him by the left hip before he can fall. Derek’s left hand slides up under Stiles’ shirt and lands on the skin just above the waistband of his pants. Derek uses the grip to both support himself and propel Stiles out.

They make it out of the place and over to Stiles’ Jeep without anyone seeing them or anyone sounding the alarm. Derek tries to let go of Stiles, but can’t. His hand is stuck to Stiles’ skin. He tries to wrench it away and Stiles hisses in pain. Derek tries to transform, letting his fangs extend and his eyes go red, and it’s like he’s burning from the inside out. He settles back into human form, panting, and Stiles is staring at him over his shoulder.

“Please, please, tell me we are not _literally_ stuck together,” Stiles says. Then he looks considering.

“One ‘stuck on you’ joke and I don’t care how much it hurts, the claws are coming out,” Derek says curtly.

They climb into Stiles’ Jeep through the driver’s side door very awkwardly. Derek’s left arm is wrapped around Stiles’ back, his left hand fixed to Stiles’ left hip, he has to lean his upper body toward Stiles so that Stiles isn’t pulled toward Derek as he drives. The position makes Derek feel uncomfortably like an overly possessive boyfriend and probably makes him look like one. Stiles is humming something under his breath. It takes Derek some time to place it – ‘My Guy’. He growls at Stiles.

“Hey, you said ‘stuck on you’, the lyric is ‘stuck like glue to my guy’. Not that you’re, like, my guy or anything. Or that you don’t have a handsome face or that you aren’t a muscle-bound man like the song implies. And I’m shutting up now,” Stiles says.

Derek snorts.

“I can totally be quiet. For minutes at a time even. Maybe not like an hour or anything, unless I was asleep or unconscious.”

“That could be arranged.”

“See, now, I’m never quite sure if you actually have a sense of humor or if I’m meant to take that kind of thing completely seriously. I want it to be a sense of humor, one, because then I don’t have to feel scared of you all the damn time and two, because I can’t imagine trying to live the life that you have so far without having a way to lighten things up. On the other hand, you having a sense of humor sort of messes with my world view.”

“Shut up, Stiles.”

“Right.”

Derek estimates two minutes, tops, before Stiles is talking again. Maybe he shouldn’t have told him to shut up. At least his rambling is distracting. All Derek has to concentrate on now is their predicament and Stiles’ scent. Most people have a neutral scent – not bad, not good, just there. But Stiles smells comforting almost. There’s something… warm about his scent, something reminiscent of hearth and home. Which Derek generally chooses not to dwell on. Derek looks out the windscreen when Stiles makes a turn. “Where are you going?”

“Home?”

Derek looks at him. Showing up at the sheriff’s house _glued_ to his teenage son just does not seem like a great idea.

“Dad’s not home. And I have internet there to, you know, look up solutions to our little problem here. And last I knew, you didn’t have internet in your lair – den? Unless you have, like, an iPad, which I guess you could have, oh wait, do you have a Nook? Heh. I don’t know why that’s funny to me, but it is. I think I just have this picture in my mind of something frustrating you and you going all Wolf-Smash which is hairier and less green than Hulk-Smash.”

Derek glares at Stiles.

“You know what would be awesome? You not trying to glare holes through my head. Especially since, oh yeah, I just saved your ungrateful ass.”

“That doesn’t make you less annoying,” Derek deadpans.

“You mean you would treat me this exact same way if I didn’t help out and/or save you? That doesn’t seem fair.”

Derek sighs. “I wouldn’t treat you any way at all, I’d be dead,” he says matter-of-factly.

“Wow, now see, I was looking for a thank you or at least an acknowledgement, which I guess that technically is, but that’s really kind of depressing. Don’t say things like that.”

Derek shrugs. It’s true, but if Stiles doesn’t want to be reminded of it, Derek won’t.

“So, um, that was kind of a lab set-up back there, I don’t suppose you heard anything about what they were making?” Stiles asks hopefully.

“They didn’t talk much when they were in the room with me and the ropes dulled my senses some,” Derek says.

“Well, we’ll figure it out.”

“We will, will we?”

“Yeah, because, no offense, but I’m not okay with being stuck together forever.”

Derek doesn’t see how that helps them at all and he stares at Stiles.

“Look, necessity is the mother of invention. We’ll figure something out because we need to,” Stiles says.

That’s probably true, but it doesn’t mean that they’re going to be all that happy with any solutions they find. Derek can already think of something that can be done that Stiles won’t like, but it may be necessary in the end.

They arrive at Stiles’ house and it’s harder to maneuver themselves out of the Jeep than in, mostly because Stiles seems to forget they’re attached and tries to climb out without waiting for Derek. They get out and get inside and Stiles pulls him into the kitchen and digs out a couple of bottles from under the sink. He hands them to Derek. Goo Gone and nail polish remover? Derek frowns at Stiles.

“They work on sticky stuff, like whatever the hell they put on the back of barcode stickers. Seriously, they work on those, might as well give them a shot,” Stiles says.

Neither work. And the nail polish remover’s smell makes Derek nauseous. They head upstairs. There is an embarrassing stop in the bathroom (for Stiles, Derek’s sort of fascinated by how red he gets). They arrange themselves on chairs in front of the computer. Derek watches as Stiles tries different search terms and clicks through websites. He does it very quickly, skimming most sites and only exploring a few further.

“Well, the good news is that it will probably just unstick itself. The bad news is that it might take a few days,” Stiles says.

“I can’t be stuck to you for days. If you can’t find a way, I’ll just have to cut it off.”

“ _Oh my God, what is wrong with you?_ Why is cutting off a limb always your solution?” asks Stiles incredulously, then he continues in a softer, almost hurt tone, “And why is being stuck to me for a few days so bad that you’d even consider that?”

“I actually meant cut the skin off my hand. Since we’re attached, anyone who comes after me comes after you by default. I couldn’t change back there and even if I could, maneuvering like this could get both of us killed.”

“Oh. Okay. But that’s still kind of gross – I don’t really want your bloody hand skin on my hip.”

“Better than the alternative.”

“Yes, there are lots of things that are better than getting killed, but that doesn’t mean that I want to experience them. Look, just give me some time. What does it smell like – the adhesive?”

Derek leans in close to where they’re connected and inhales. “Aluminum, sand, something plastic-like, something bitter, but mostly… roses.”

“Roses?” Stiles asks, sounding surprised.

It’s not exactly what Derek was expecting either. “Yes.”

“Huh.” Stiles looks thoughtful.

“What?”

“There’s a story I read. A woman falls in love with a werewolf and he with her. Her father doesn’t believe it – he believes instead that the werewolf will kill her or turn her. So she goes to this matchmaker/witch lady, who makes a potion out of roses. If the werewolf takes the potion, he will become feral, out of control, kill anybody who comes near, except for his true love. So the woman gets the potion and doses the werewolf and locks herself in a room with him for the night. And he doesn’t kill her, doesn’t even flash a fang,” Stiles says, stopping abruptly.

“That’s the whole story?”

“No, it’s an old school story – it doesn’t end well.”

Derek raises an eyebrow.

“Her brother breaks into the room, thinking to rescue her, but it’s before the potion wears off and the werewolf goes feral and tries to kill him. Then the werewolf gets killed and after burying him, the woman kills herself. You know, one of those love-doesn’t-conquer-all, high body-count, no-happy-ending-for-you tales. Like The Little Mermaid, holy God, the actual story, the ending is so, so far from happy. Anyway, maybe they were trying for something that would make you guys feral, then they could kill with impunity.”

“Maybe.” Derek can’t help the slight shudder at the thought. Becoming the monster that they think he is, a killing machine, would be horrifying. Would he even know? Would he go after people he knew?

“It didn’t work,” Stiles says, looking at him, his face only inches away from Derek’s.

Derek grunts.

“Oh, hey, why are you so warm? Is that a werewolf thing? I think maybe Scott’s a little warmer. Is it because your metabolism’s quicker? Oh wait, are you hungry? When’s the last time you ate? Actually, I’m kind of hungry. I should, we should go fix something. What do you want? I think something easy would be best – don’t want to have to drag you around the kitchen. So, frozen pizza?”

Derek blinks at the rapid fire questions. “What’s the point of asking a question if you don’t actually wait for an answer?”

“Well, you’re not exactly generous with your knowledge. Sometimes you just have throw things at the wall until something sticks.”

“Why would you throw things at a wall?”

“It’s a saying. Why does a piece of cake equal easy? How is high water comparable to hell? Why not take the kitchen sink too? Why was the cat in the bag to begin with? Which foot is the wrong one? Questions for the ages.”

“Does your mind ever stop just throwing out random things?”

“Not really. Adderall can help me focus, but it always feels like, I don’t know, my mind is running background tasks.”

“Hmm.” Derek shakes his head and then goes back to what Stiles was asking earlier, “I could stand to eat something, pizza works.”

“Oh, okay. Let’s go do that.”

They eat and then go back to searching for answers. Stiles’ father calls to check in. Stiles makes a complicated face when his father says he won’t be home until noon the next day. The call ends with an admonition from Stiles to be careful. Stiles is a little quieter after that, snarky remarks not coming as fast. When Stiles starts yawning, Derek calls their search to a halt.

Stiles is ridiculously modest and makes Derek close his eyes when he changes into his sleep clothes. Derek’s reflexes are very fast so Stiles doesn’t catch him looking. Stiles wrinkles his nose a little when he looks at Derek’s clothes. Derek supposes he doesn’t smell all that pleasant after being in and sweating in these clothes for so long. As a werewolf, one quickly becomes accustomed to one’s own scent in most states and it’s easy to ignore. Stiles digs out some sweatpants and hands them to Derek. Derek takes off his shoes and socks which is a little more difficult than normal with only one hand. Stiles resolutely looks away as Derek nonchalantly unfastens his pants, pushes them and his underwear down, and steps out of them. He puts on the sweatpants and thinks they must be loose on Stiles because they’re only a little snug on Derek and Stiles is on the thin side. Derek waits for Stiles to look back at him and then he rips his shirt off, the sound of the seams tearing loud in the room. And if he enjoys the look on Stiles’ face, the sound of his heartbeat speeding up, the flush on his skin, the smell of his want as he stares at Derek’s chest, well, Derek thinks that’s completely understandable. And if Derek takes some pleasure climbing into Stiles’ bed behind him, well, that’s between him and his conscience.

Derek sleeps deeply once Stiles falls asleep. He only realizes that there’s someone else near when Stiles’ window slides open. Scott slips into the room already talking, “Dude, what’s up with all the messages? And what happened to Derek? And-“

Derek is up out of the bed, pulling a half-asleep, stumbling Stiles with him. His fangs come out, his eyes go red, and his claws extend. It’s agony, the burning worse than before, but the wolf part of him is so angry and it will not retreat. Derek lunges at the Scott and Scott transforms himself.

“Stop! Jesus, stop! What the hell?” Stiles yells.

Derek growls loudly at Scott. He wants to tear him apart.

“Scott, get out! Get out!” Stiles shouts.

“But, what’s going on? What is Derek doing here? And why won’t he let you go?” Scott asks bewildered.

Derek lunges at Scott again, trying to keep Stiles out of harm’s way. Stiles turns into him and puts a hand on his chest.

“Derek, stop.”

Derek stops lunging and is able to calm down a little.

“Scott, get out. Seriously, he’s reacting to you,” Stiles says without turning to look at Scott.

“But-“ Scott protests.

“Go. I’ll explain in the morning. He won’t hurt me,” Stiles says

“Fine. But it better be a good explanation,” Scott says, resigned. He goes over to the window and starts to climb out.

“Don’t kid yourself, it’ll be a weird explanation. They all are these days,” Stiles says.

Scott snorts and leaves.

Now that Derek isn’t focused on Scott, the pain comes to the forefront, but he can’t quite seem to pull all the way back. Not until he smells blood, Stiles’ blood. He blinks and the fangs and claws finally retract and the red fades from his eyes. Apparently, the claws on the hand on Stiles’ hip had broken the skin. There are four shallow slices from each finger and a deeper slice from his thumb. Even the deeper one only produces a tiny bit of blood, but it should not have happened. Derek shudders from the sudden relief of pain, upset with himself and still irrationally angry at Scott.

“Yeah, so the feral thing, uh, I’m thinking, yes, that’s probably something those hunters were trying for,” Stiles says.

“Sorry,” Derek says gruffly, apologizing for hurting Stiles, for going feral, for getting him involved at all. He’s ashamed of his loss of control, no matter the cause.

Stiles shrugs.

Derek doesn’t know how he can do that, how he can just brush things off like that. Derek envies him his ability to let anything he deems unimportant go and soldier on. He seems able to keep separate his feelings for people and the stupid actions they might take. Derek looks at him and then notices something in his scent. “What about _that_ did you like?” he asks disbelievingly.

“I didn’t like anything about that. And if I could _never_ get woken up like that ever again, I would appreciate it.”

The scent of _want_ is heavy in the air. Derek is confused. “But you smell like-“ Derek breaks off when he realizes just exactly how they’re standing, how they’ve _been_ standing. Stiles right up close to Derek, half-turned into him, Derek’s left arm wrapped around him, Stiles’ hand still on Derek’s chest. Derek hadn’t even noticed, it had just felt natural, standing this close, having Stiles touching him.

“What do I smell like?” Stiles asks curiously.

“Ask me tomorrow.”

Stiles peers at him suspiciously. “Don’t think I’ll forget.”

“Tomorrow. We should go back to sleep.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

They settle back into the bed. Stiles drifts off pretty quickly. Derek takes longer to fall asleep, thinking about the story Stiles had told him, thinking about control and love.

~~~

Stiles doesn’t want to wake up in the morning. He turns to snuggle into the blankets, pulling Derek with him. Derek pulls him back with his stuck hand and it suddenly rips free.

“Ow! Ow, ow, ow, dammit, that hurt,” Stiles says with a reproachful glare.

Derek just looks at him and holds up his newly freed hand.

“Oh. Huh.” Stiles’ expression turns smug. “See, all it took was a little time and no cutting of anything was necessary. People, no, _werewolves_ should listen to me.”

The smugness is kind of infuriating, so Derek decides to throw Stiles off-guard. “Want.”

“What?”

“That’s what you smelled like last night. Like you wanted. Like desire. Like something or someone got you-“

“I got it! I got it. I guess I asked for that. I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me that you would be able to smell it. I guess I thought that since you didn’t mention it the first time, you couldn’t tell. So, if you could, um, like, go back to ignoring that kind of thing, that would be awesome.”

Derek hadn’t really thought much further than bringing it up, but the idea of just ignoring it suddenly seems repugnant to him. “No.”

“What? Why not?” Stiles squawks.

“I don’t want to.”

“You don’t want to because you want to make fun of me for it or you don’t want to because-“

Derek pulls him into a kiss. It’s more aggressive than it really should be for a first kiss, but Stiles doesn’t seem to care, participating enthusiastically. A little too enthusiastic, actually, because he bites at Derek’s mouth and Derek responds almost automatically by getting on top of Stiles and covering his body completely with Derek’s own, attacking his mouth and rubbing their cloth-covered dicks against each other. Stiles makes an encouraging sound as Derek moves down to his neck and starts licking and sucking, still rutting against Stiles. Stiles whimpers and Derek can smell his come, feel it through their clothing. He follows quickly afterward.

“Um, that’s a really good reason,” Stiles says a little breathlessly.

Derek laughs.


	26. One Hundred and Forty-Seven Pounds of Pale Flesh and Fragile Bone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Prompt](http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/4407.html?thread=2930743#t2930743): Derek/Stiles. Stiles is a jack of all trades. He also happens to like surprising Derek with this little talents. I was thinking maybe a 5+1 or as many + as many as the author wants? Sterek moments is most welcomed. Bonus points if maybe one for whatever reason is pocket picking and he uses it to help Derek/pack out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brought to you by the letter ‘F’.

1\. Fast

Isaac is never quite sure what to make of the way Stiles and Derek treat each other. Sometimes they’re enemies, sometimes they’re allies, sometimes they seem to tease each other like friends, and sometimes they seem to loathe each other. Isaac has taken to trying to subtly check how Derek feels before they interact with Stiles (Derek doesn’t seem to care whether they hurt Stiles, as long as it’s not serious, when they’re on opposite sides, but God help them if they do more than threaten Stiles when they’re on the same side). So when Stiles, Scott, and Allison show up at _another_ of the places on Derek’s list of possible hideouts for the thing they’re looking for, Isaac watches Derek closely for cues.

“What are you doing here?” Derek asks angrily.

“Same thing you are,” Scott says.

“How did you know about this place?” Derek bites out.

“Dude, seriously? You _saw_ me getting a look at your list,” Stiles says.

“You didn’t have time to read more than a couple of locations,” Derek says.

Stiles smirks. “Well, this was the next logical-“

“Stiles can speed read,” Scott says proudly.

“Jesus, Scott, give away all our advantages why don’t you?” Stiles says in exasperation.

“What? He already knew you saw the list,” Scott protests.

“We totally could have figured this out just from seeing some of those places,” Stiles says.

“Stiles,” Allison says, a skeptical look on her face.

“Yeah, okay, maybe not. Just, maybe don’t tell them everything, huh?” Stiles asks pleadingly.

Scott gives a half-shrug and a nod.

Derek growls at them, but there’s something in his expression that says he’s reluctantly impressed. Isaac grabs Erica’s arm as she’s about get involved. He makes a face at her. It looks like only threats are on the table today. She rolls her eyes and gives a short nod to show she understands. He lets go and tries for a bored, but menacing expression. He’s getting better at those, he thinks.

2\. Friendly

Erica knows this is pretty much all her fault. It doesn’t stop her from blaming Stiles. Who knew he’d be so good at poker? And he’s helping Scott win, too, somehow. Scott always looks to Stiles as he bets, whether Stiles has folded or not, and seems to base his bets on some silent conversation they have. The point is, Erica, Isaac, and Boyd are losing, badly. She’d cajoled her other pack members into playing. She was bored and they were all waiting for Derek and it seemed like a good opportunity to push things with Scott a little further. So when Stiles had sarcastically suggested a game of bridge, she’d countered with strip poker. She should have been suspicious at how easily they’d agreed. 

Now, she’s down to her bra and panties (and Scott’s not even looking), and Boyd and Isaac are down to boxers and socks and Stiles is wearing her halter top around his neck like a scarf. Then Derek just appears out of shadows (she wonders how long he’s been watching), looking amused, and she has no doubt it’s mostly at her expense. He calls a halt to it and Stiles and Scott offer their clothes back to them with self-satisfied smiles. Erica scoffs and then glares and bares her teeth at Stiles. He gives her a jaunty wave. She goes off (there’s maybe a little flouncing) to get some other clothes to put on, followed by Boyd and Isaac. As she leaves the room, she sees Derek give a tug that she can’t describe as anything other than playful to the shirt around Stiles’ neck.

3\. Flexible

Boyd watches in amazement (along with Derek, Erica, Isaac, and Scott) as Stiles climbs out of the vent. Stiles is thin, but getting through those ducts would require some serious contortion (something that had ruled out using them as a way in when they had been looking at blueprints). Which is why, when they’d come to rescue Isaac and had gotten caught themselves, Boyd had assumed they were screwed. Boyd is glad that Stiles is here, even if he doesn’t let it show on his face. He’s a little taken aback to see the same sort of speculation on Derek’s face as he sees on Erica’s as they look at Stiles.

Stiles nearly falls, but catches himself. He reaches into his pocket and triumphantly pulls out a set of keys and flourishes them at Scott with a smile. And then he promptly drops them. He picks them up with a grimace and lets everyone out of the cages they’re in.

“Dude, I guess those gymnastics classes didn’t just give you bruises,” Scott says.

“Yup, I’m bendy like… something bendy,” Stiles says. “And so next time something like this happens and I say that I can do it…”

Scott sighs. “We’ll listen to you because you’re always right and we should listen to whatever you have to say and never disagree ever for the sake of our wolvlihoods. You know, we could hear you banging around in there for a while.”

“Yeah, I took a wrong turn and had to backtrack. Anyway, let’s go,” Stiles says.

Boyd catches Derek still looking at Stiles thoughtfully long after they’ve escaped and wonders if maybe a merging of the two packs could come about a very different way than Scott becoming a beta to Derek.

4\. Formidable

Allison smiles at the look on Derek’s face when he realizes that she’s just the decoy and Stiles gets him with a tranquilizer dart. They’ve been a little cautious with Stiles’ weapons training. His aim is good, but he’s hyper and flaily, which is just not a good combination with weapons with triggers, or a lot of other weapons, actually. But the blowgun that she had gotten hold of works really well for him (although, she’s really happy about the anti-inhale mouthpiece). Plus, they’d come up with a tranquilizer, partially based on the kanima’s paralytic venom, that works really well on werewolves (Scott had really not been happy being the guinea pig for that).

They sit there and watch over Derek (they don’t actually want to leave him vulnerable to any hunter that might come upon him and they aren’t sure if the effects will wear off more quickly for him) while Scott does his thing. Allison watches Stiles as he studies Derek. There’s something weirdly soft about his expression. As soon as Derek starts to wake up, Stiles goes right into snark mode. They get away as soon as they can so they can meet up with Scott. Stiles starts talking about what changes they can make to the formula as they drive, but Allison isn’t paying as much attention as she should be. She’s kind of stuck on the way Stiles’ whole face had lit up when Derek had uttered a grudging, “Not bad.” 

She’s a little upset because she thinks that while a lot of it has to do with the fact that it was _Derek_ , at least some of it has to do with the fact that Stiles is desperate for any kind of validation. She reaches over and taps Stiles’ arm. He stops talking and gives her a questioning look. “Just, uh, wanted to say, good job,” she says.

“Yeah, I think we did pretty well.”

“Yeah, but, it was your dart and your idea, so good job.”

“It was a team effort, but thanks,” Stiles says. His face doesn’t light up, but he does have a pleased smile.

Allison relaxes a little. “You’re welcome.”

5\. Furtive

Scott hates to do this, but he turns to Stiles and says, “Stiles,” as persuasively as he can.

Stiles looks at him and his face falls. “No.”

Scott adds the puppy dog eyes. “Stiles.”

“Come on, man, we can figure out another way, can’t we?” Stiles asks.

Derek is watching the whole exchange with a confused expression.

“We really need it,” Scott says.

“Yeah, yeah,” Stiles says, resigned.

Stiles walks off and ducks down a side corridor. He darts out as Mr. Foster comes down the hallway. If Scott didn’t know any better, he would believe it’s a complete accident when Stiles runs into Mr. Foster. Stiles lets himself fall and Mr. Foster helps him up, maybe being more handsy than he strictly has to be. Derek makes a noise that’s kind of like an angry rumble. Scott shoots him a quick look and sees he’s watching with a deep frown. Stiles disentangles himself from Mr. Foster and makes his way back over to them.

“I hope you’re happy,” Stiles says with disgruntled expression to Scott.

“What was that?” Derek barks out.

Stiles and Scott look at him, startled. And then Stiles looks back to make sure Mr. Foster’s gone and holds up the medallion he’d lifted from Mr. Foster’s pocket. Derek blinks and takes it.

“You can pickpocket?” Derek asks.

Stiles shrugs.

Derek’s voice does this strange thing where it goes all deep and silky. “Any other hidden talents?”

Stiles looks at Derek and licks his lips. “Lots.”

Scott is suddenly uncomfortable and he clears his throat. “So, we got it and we should go now.”

“Right,” Stiles says.

“Right,” Derek echoes slowly.

Scott turns and starts walking. It takes a few seconds before Stiles and Derek catch up.

+1. Forthcoming

Derek watches as Stiles distracts, deflects, and disarms everyone within listening distance with his non-stop flow of words. Derek’s seen it in action before, he’s even been affected by it. And he’s almost always impressed (and sometimes annoyed, if it’s directed at him). But even he is surprised when Stiles gets them all out of there in one piece _with an apology_ from the encroaching pack’s alpha.

Derek finds Stiles after he’s gotten his pack settled (Erica had really wanted to fight, Isaac had been disturbed by a pack member that had looked a lot like his father, and Boyd had been worried about their pack getting hurt). Stiles is on his computer, reading something. He looks over in surprise when Derek knocks on the window. 

Stiles comes over and slides the window open and says in a sing-song voice, “Whatcha doin’?”

Derek gives him a perplexed look.

Stiles blinks. “Oh, you probably don’t watch the Disney channel much, huh? Come in.”

Derek slides in. “That was impressive. What you did tonight.”

“I thought you didn’t like that I talk so much.”

“It’s fine when you use your powers for good and not for evil.”

“Did- Was that, like, a joke? Oh my God, we may be able to save you from the dark side yet.”

Derek crowds forward (possibly looming, a little) and Stiles steps back. Derek keeps moving forward until Stiles’ back is up against the wall. Then Derek leans in close and puts his mouth right next to Stiles’ ear. Stiles’ heart starts to race and the tips of his ears go red as he blushes. “You know what I always wonder when you start talking?”

“N-no.”

Derek lets his voice drop to a whisper. “I wonder if your mouth would keep moving if I used _my_ mouth some place distracting.”

Stiles swallows audibly. “Like, like where?”

Derek pulls back a little so that he can watch Stiles’ face. He reaches up with his right hand and runs his fingers and thumb lightly down Stiles’ neck. “Here.” Stiles eyes go dark and his breath stutters. Derek reaches down and runs the backs of two fingers up and down the zipper on Stiles’ pants. “Here.” Stiles makes a sound like a half-stifled whimper.

Stiles starts talking in a breathless rush, “Oh God, oh God. I am totally for the scientific method. Experimentation is key. And you have to double, no, triple-check your results because you have to make sure you can replicate them. And there are other places you could try. I think that would be best, honestly. Ooh, and I could do the same to you, as, you know, a control. That would totally work since you just don’t talk that much. And then-“

Derek leans in again and puts his mouth some place that does stop Stiles from talking, though his mouth does still move.


	27. Doing a Very Good Job of It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Prompt](http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/3353.html?thread=2525721#t2525721) by : Derek/Stiles preslash - werewolf behavior and pack interaction as seen by hunters. Derek is shot by a rogue hunter and for some reason Stiles ends up doing the "burn the monkshood and smoosh the ashes into the wound" cure for him. Maybe this leads the Argent family to discover that Derek was going to make Stiles cut off his arm during the Magic Bullet incident? Most werewolves would rather chew off the limb themselves than let non-pack near them while so critically wounded - that's a hell of a lot of trust to put in someone you don't know that well. Bonus points if you include Victoria Argent as more than a passing mention; she fascinates me for some reason, and I'd love to see more interaction!

Stiles is keeping up a running commentary while he lights the monkshood up. He pushes it into the wound on Derek’s thigh. Derek makes a sort of horrible noise and tenses. “You know, I’m so glad you didn’t ask me to cut off your leg and what is my life that I can even say something like that? I mean, I maybe could have handled cutting off your arm if I had absolutely had to, except, hello, nightmares forever. But this is much better, don’t you think? With the not dying and the no cutting or sawing of any kind and the magically disappearing infection and the not smelling like death anymore.”   
Stiles is relieved at how much better Derek looks, even as he rolls his eyes at Stiles. 

Stiles looks across the room where Scott is over trying to keep the rest of Derek’s pack from attacking Allison’s parents. And he’s disconcerted to find both the Argents staring at him intently. Jeez, and he’d thought _Mr._ Argent was scary intense. Mrs. Argent is, like, a thousand times worse. Stiles thinks she may be scarier than Derek when he’s got his alpha on. How on Earth did these two coolly calculating people have such a warm, caring daughter like Allison? He knows he’s probably not seeing everything they are, but wow.

“You’ve had to do this before, dear?” Mrs. Argent asks, weirdly polite and utterly disregarding the angry creatures around her and her husband.

“I, um, why?” Stiles asks.

Mr. Argent narrows his eyes. “Kate. Kate got you.” He looks at Scott. “And you got the monkshood for them from Kate’s bag.”

Scott just shrugs.

Mr. and Mrs. Argent look at each other with raised eyebrows. Mr. Argent looks back at Stiles. “How long have you known Derek Hale?”

Stiles shrugs. “I don’t know. It’s a small town. I mean, the Hales kept to themselves, but they were still around.”

“No, dear, how long have you personally known him?” Mrs. Argent asks with a smile that might even look pleasant, if not for the glint in her eye.

Stiles really doesn’t like the condescending way she calls him ‘dear’. “We met the day after Scott- You know what? I don’t think I’m going to answer anymore of your questions because I’m really not sure why you want to know, but I am sure that if you can find a way to use it against us, you will.”

Mr. and Mrs. Argent exchange significant looks. “Well, at least you’ve got one smart one in your pack,” Mr. Argent says to Derek.

Scott’s affronted “Hey!” is echoed by several other people.

“When a werewolf is injured, they act much more like a wounded animal than a wounded human. You’ve seen how wounded animals act, haven’t you Stiles? Snapping and snarling at anyone, any stranger, who tries to help. But Derek had only known you a very, very short while and yet, he was willing to trust _you_ to cut off his arm. Don’t you find that interesting, Stiles?” Mrs. Argent asks, her tone almost caressing.

Stiles is kind of wishing she’d go back to calling him ‘dear’. Like her saying his name gives her some kind of power over him or something. Stiles looks at Derek. Derek is looking trapped, which freaks Stiles out. So Stiles starts talking. “Well, I don’t know, isn’t it awfully human to try to survive against overwhelming odds? I was his best chance of survival. He was being logical, human.”

“But humans really aren’t logical about that type of thing, are they? Most people would resist cutting off a limb if there was any chance they didn’t have to,” Mrs. Argent says.

Stiles can’t really argue with that. And he doesn’t know why Derek had trusted him, not just to cut off his arm, but to not leave him to die. Both Mr. and Mrs. Argent are looking at him like he’s a particularly intriguing specimen. And, actually, so is everyone else, except for Derek. Derek seems to be trying to stare the Argents down.

“He’s human,” Derek says to them.

“Hmm, yes, and as long as he says that way, he’s safe from us, even if he is in your pack,” Mr. Argent says.

Derek snorts.

Stiles doesn’t blame him. The Argents do seem awfully ruthless. He doesn’t think they would kill him, but use him to get to the rest of the pack – absolutely.

“We have a code. We don’t hurt humans at all if we can help it,” Mr. Argent says icily.

“Yes, no matter who he belongs to, Stiles is human and only sixteen and we have no wish to see him come to any harm,” Mrs. Argent says.

Who he belongs to? Stiles thinks that’s a weird way to phrase it. Unless they don’t mean him being a part of the pack. Stiles is about to ask when Scott speaks up. 

“So, then shooting Derek was an accident, right? If you’re following your code,” Scott says hopefully.

“Neither of us shot Hale,” Mr. Argent says lazily.

And Stiles can feel the tension dissipate, like everybody has been told to stand down. He realizes then that everyone else can tell that the Argents aren’t lying (he’s knows Allison being here would have just made everything worse, but it would still be nice not to be the only human pack member present).

“Well, why didn’t you say so before?” Scott asks incredulously.

“They were testing us,” Stiles says tiredly. “If we hurt them without evidence of them hurting us, guess what their code says they can do?”

Scott looks angry and hurt and a little disgusted.

Mr. Argent just shrugs.

And Mrs. Argent smiles.

“You should go,” Stiles says to the Argents.

The Argents look around and then start moving slowly toward the door. Nobody tries to stop them. Mrs. Argent turns and looks at Derek when she gets to the door. “Remember, as long as he stays human.”

Derek gives a sharp nod.

The Argents leave. 

Scott turns to Stiles. Stiles waves him off. “Go, find Allison. Tell her everything’s okay.”

Scott hits him on the shoulder. “Yeah, okay, see you later.” And then he leaves.

The rest of the pack follows and soon Derek and Stiles are alone.

“Feeling better?” Stiles asks.

“Not dead, so, yes,” Derek says dryly.

“What was all that about staying human? I wasn’t planning on asking for the bite, but why are they so concerned about it? Why would they think you’d want to turn me?”

“You’d make a good wolf,” Derek says gruffly.

“Aw, thanks,” Stiles says sarcastically. “That’s not what that was about, though. And who, exactly, do I _belong_ to? And don’t say that I’m part of the pack, because that’s not what they were talking about.”

Derek just looks at him and doesn’t say anything.

“Fine. I’ll go ask the Argents,” Stiles says, turning for the door.

“Me,” Derek says.

Stiles turns back. “What?”

“You belong to me.”

“I what?”

“You’re mine. My mate,” Derek says. His expression tells Stiles how very much Derek doesn’t want to talk about this.

Mate? “What does that even _mean_?”

“I trust you with my life. I trust you with my pack.”

And even though the words are grudging, that’s huge. Derek isn’t much for expressing his feelings. Stiles can’t even really wrap his head around how huge it is. Trust is everything for Derek. “Oh. I, oh.”

Derek looks away.

Stiles feels like he did something wrong, like he let Derek down somehow. Then he realizes that was kind of a declaration there and all he said back was ‘Oh’. And it turns out that he’s not that great at expressing his feelings, either. “I trust you, too,” he says quickly. “I trust you to keep us safe. To keep me safe.” Stiles hopes Derek can read everything Stiles isn’t saying.

Derek looks back at him and his expression softens.

And because Stiles just doesn’t know when to leave well enough alone, he says, “So, okay, mate, I guess it makes sense you’d want to turn your mate.”

“Yes.”

The word is heavy, weighted with all kinds of feelings. “Oh,” Stiles says in a small voice. Of course a werewolf wants to be mated to a werewolf. Of course Stiles, as he is, isn’t good enough.

“I want to be able to run with you. Share everything with you.”

That’s actually really… sweet. “Maybe, maybe someday-“

“No. Not for me. Not because _I_ want it. Only if you _want_ it. Not for any other reason.”

And Stiles had always thought that the first time someone told him they loved him, they would say the actual words. Turns out, he was wrong. “Okay, sourwolf,” Stiles says, letting his tone convey the ‘Me, too’.


	28. Like You Know Exactly What I’m Talking About

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Prompt](http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/4407.html?thread=3203639#t3203639): Feral Derek with side of Sterek. So...has there been any temporary feral Derek fics lately? Maybe Derek gets knocked around really hard or get’s shot with a new drug and kind of looses his 'human' ID/side for a few hours/day and Stiles is the lucky participant to be around when this happens so Feral Derek kind of imprints on him. He growls and attacks at anyone who gets close to Stiles, especially other wolves, and drags Stiles off into the woods to hide. Stiles is freaking out, trying to help Derek heal, and just yammering away at Derek even though Derek doesn't really seem to understand. Then Stiles figures out Derek's protecting him for some reason and it's sort of sweet ya know in a pre-reform Vulcan way, except for the whole spending the night in the woods gig and being treated like the cavewoman to Derek's caveman. Next day Derek wakes up with twigs in his hair, half naked, curled up next to a grumbling Stiles under a tree root wondering what the hell just happened, was he abducted by aliens? Please no noncon on either character.

Derek wakes up, mind fuzzy, body aching. He’s on the ground, in the woods, sheltered under a tree, no shirt, and he’s wrapped around a sleeping Stiles. And he has no idea how any of it happened. But as he looks at Stiles face, just a couple of inches from his own, a memory comes back to him.

Derek remembers an arrow, he remembers pain and running. He remembers so many different feelings coming at him, especially anger and fear, threatening to overwhelm him. He remembers instinct taking over.

Then there are little flashes of memory. Coming across Stiles in the woods. Wanting, no, _needing_ to get him away, protect him, keep him safe. Stiles talking at him. Stiles smelling like confusion and fear, but not fear _of_ Derek, fear _for_ him. Stiles talking at him. Derek finding a place to curl up for the night, putting himself between Stiles and the world, surrounding Stiles with himself. Stiles talking at him. And finally, Stiles falling asleep. While Derek remembers Stiles talking, it’s all just sounds, like Stiles was speaking a language Derek couldn’t understand.

Stiles breathing changes and he starts to wake up. Derek pulls away slowly, reluctant for reasons he doesn’t want to think about. Derek gets free as Stiles gives a groan and opens his eyes. Derek’s not sure what he’s expecting, but he wouldn’t be surprised by anger or accusation or pretty much any negative emotion. That’s not what he gets, though.

Stiles peers at him closely and then asks, “I don’t suppose you have any idea where we were yesterday before you dragged me off. I dropped my phone when you, you know, appeared and I’ve lost way too many of them already.”

“What?” Derek asks, startled.

“Phone. Could you lead me back to it? God, I hope my dad doesn’t know I’m not at home. I can’t remember what shift he’s on this week. So, anyway, phone?”

Derek blinks at him. “I could probably lead you back to it.”

“Cool. Um, do you, uh, remember anything that I talked about?”

“Not really. I remember you talking, but-“ Derek breaks off with a shrug.

“Yeah, you didn’t seem to be, uh, processing really. But you’re okay now, right? All healed? No more Cro-Magnon man?”

Derek grimaces and nods.

“That’s good. Let’s go.”

Derek backtracks to where he’d found Stiles yesterday and wonders why Stiles had seemed so relieved that he didn’t remember. They find Stiles’ phone and Derek makes sure he gets back to his Jeep okay. After Stiles drives off, Derek is left to brood about what happened. He goes back to his place and cleans himself up. He’s not really sure how all the stuff in his hair even got there – it’s like he tried to sweep the forest floor with his head. As the day goes on, not only do his own actions become clearer in his head, but both his memories and his understanding of the things that Stiles had said return.

~~~

Derek pulls Stiles in tighter to him and Stiles says, “Wow, you’re like a cuddle monster. Heh. Least scary sounding monster ever. Like Grover - The Monster at the End of This Book. You’re not much like Grover. Maybe Cookie Monster? Do you like cookies? Were there any scary Muppets? Oh man, I just realized, _I’m_ like Grover. Maybe I should dye my hair blue.”

~~~

Stiles struggles a little against Derek. “Dude, I just want a tiny bit more space. You don’t even have to let go. I just feel weird breathing in your face.” Stiles sighs, but gives up after a few minutes of fruitless squirming. After a few seconds of silence, Stiles says quietly, “I knew Laura, sort of. Did you know that? Probably not. I didn’t connect it when we, uh, dug her up. Sorry about that, by the way. But, yeah, she used to come into Sookie’s on Tuesdays when my mom and I were there. She always ordered a rare burger and curly fries. She never finished her curly fries and always offered me the rest. I guess I was kind of vocal about my love of them. She had a really nice smile. I stopped going to Sookie’s after my mom… Laura had a really nice smile.”

~~~

Stiles shifts a little and then says idly, “So, DC or Marvel? You seem kind of like a Batman sort of dude, but I bet you could get behind Wolverine. I’m partial to The Flash – Wally West era. Shocker, I know. Iron Man and The Hulk have their points, too. And I like the idea of all those groups, you know, the Avengers, the X-Men, the Justice League – all those different types of heroes, different types of people, working together.”

~~~

“You have to do something about Erica. And Isaac. Boyd’s okay, I think. He actually seems to think before he acts, sometimes at least. But Erica and Isaac are just so _angry_. Not that I blame them for that, not really. They have their reasons. But they seem bound and determined to take it out on the rest of the world. They’re going to hurt somebody, for real. And they’re not going to be able to take it back. We’re sort of allies right now and Scott’s trying and I’m trying, but you’re their alpha. And you have to calm them down, bring them back to Earth,” Stiles says seriously and something about his expression makes him look really young and maybe a little lost, makes something in Derek want to whine.

~~~

“You’re actually really lucky that I’m both clumsy and on the lacrosse team, but even so, the bruises are getting hard to explain. I have to hide behind my locker door when I change. I’m human and I don’t heal like you guys. You can’t just throw me around, push me against things. I’m resilient and all, but it’s getting kind of ridiculous.” There’s a sort of forced humor in Stiles’ tone and it grates.

~~~

“Hey, you know, you’ve got a really nice smile, too. I mean, your actual smile, not your smirky ‘I’m the alpha’ smirk. God, I really hope you don’t remember this. You’re really, horribly good-looking, even without it, but with it, jeez, you’re like Lydia-hot,” Stiles says.

Derek growls at the sound of that name.

“And, okay, why are you growling? Stop that. Did I say something? I was complimenting you, why would you- Was it because I mentioned Lydia? Whoa. Okay, got it, won’t say her name again.”

~~~

Stiles says wistfully, “I miss Scott. He’s got Allison and that’s great. I like her. Sometimes I think I like her more than Scott. And of course they should be able to spend time together, but does it have to be all the time? And even when he’s not with her, most of the time he’s thinking about her, talking about her, unless we’re fighting for our lives or tracking something down, but sometimes even then. Is it always like that? When you fall in love… and they actually love you back, do your friends just not matter as much? Have you ever been in love? I mean, I know you and Kate-“

That name makes Derek want to rage, smash, tear. A snarl rips from his throat.

“Okay, okay, another name not to mention. Yikes, wow, really, what big teeth you have.”

~~~

Stiles studies Derek’s face. “You know, you’re actually much nicer like this. Kind of feral and all caught up in your wolf headspace, or well, I’m guessing. Pre-verbal anyway. Not that you’re much for conversation on a good day. Is it weird that I want regular Derek back? I’m not saying I would object to getting him, you, back just a little bit nicer. Actually, if you could find a way to balance each other out, that would be great. Hey, do you think that’s maybe your problem? Because ever since you turned into the alpha, you’ve been all over the place. Maybe you’re, like, fighting against yourself or your instincts or something?”

~~~

Stiles gazes off in the distance as he says softly, “I sort of understand this. You’re just trying to protect me, keep me safe. From what, I don’t know. When I was, I don’t know, six, I think, I got really sick and my fever went really high. I had those, um, febrile seizures. It really freaked my parents out. For weeks after I got better, I would wake up in the morning and find one of them curled up next to me on the bed and the other asleep in a chair next to the bed. That actually freaked _me_ out a little, that they were so worried. But they were trying to keep me safe.”

~~~

“So, um, don’t get mad, but I was kind of thinking about the kanima and how it’s supposed to go after killers. And what if it is? I mean, it’s not a stretch to think that that hunter dude might have killed someone. And Mr. Lahey, well, um, Mrs. Lahey’s death was ruled an accident, but what if it wasn’t? I don’t know about the mechanic, I don’t know enough about him to even really speculate, but the possibility is there, right? And you, well, you did kill Peter,” Stiles says cautiously.

Derek growls loudly.

“Wow, alright, should have seen that growl coming. I won’t say his name again.”

~~~

Stiles looks at Derek with a curious expression. “Do you ever watch television? I mean, I guess you probably don’t have cable in your, um, lair, den, place that you hang out and train with your minio- betas. I wonder what you would watch. Animal Planet? The Dog Whisperer? Kidding. Somehow I can’t see you watching anything with supernatural stuff in it, except maybe to laugh at it. Ninja Warrior for ideas for training? Something with cars, maybe? Top Gear? I know you like your car, but do you care about cars in general? Food? Maybe Iron Chef? I like Mythbusters. You might like it. Or not.”

~~~

Stiles says, “I think you need to be more careful. You and your pack haven’t exactly been keeping the lowest profile. And I don’t know if you actually would have killed Lydia-“ 

Derek growls softly, reminding, not warning.

“Oh, oh, alright, again with the growling, sorry. But _she_ wasn’t the kanima. Not that you should be out to kill Jackson-“

Derek snarls.

“What him, too? Stop snarling. Any other names I shouldn’t say? Anyway, if you had killed her, I never would have forgiven you. Would you have been able to forgive yourself? You would have been just like the hunters – killing because you thought she was a threat. But you were wrong and you would’ve killed someone who wasn’t hurting anyone. How would you have felt? You have to be more careful. You’re the alpha. Your betas are going to follow your lead. Do you want to turn them into killers?”

~~~

Stiles limbs jerk a little, not like he’s trying to get away, but almost like he has to fidget. “My dad was right. I’m not gay. Because, breasts. They’re _awesome_. But it has sort of come to my attention that I might, maybe, also, sort of enjoy chests that don’t have them. I am an equal opportunity chest appreciator. Don’t tell Scott. I mean, I don’t think he’ll care about the bi thing, which, hopefully, he’s starting to get a clue, I’ve been dropping hints, like, all over the place. But the chest thing might make him self-conscious, not that I see _him_ that way, although he does have a nice chest. I am actually spoiled for choice in that specific area. Guys in this town are not shy about taking off their shirts. Although, really, your chest is probably the b- Um, and the girls seem to have quite a few low-cut tops. So, yay for me.”

~~~

Derek tries to let everything, all of the memories, settle. And, honestly, he should just pretend that he’d never remembered any of what Stiles had said (except for the things that Stiles had said about being careful and what he’d said about Derek’s pack – those he needs to take into himself, he needs to do better, be better). But he can’t let _any_ of it go. Derek needs to talk to Stiles.

Derek goes to Stiles’ house and makes his way up to his bedroom window and then he hesitates. Maybe he should go knock on the door. Just as he’s decided to climb down, Stiles looks up and sees him. He comes over to the window and slides it up. 

“Hey, you’re not here to play Tarzan again, are you? You’re you, right? I don’t really want to spend another night in the woods. There’s roughing it and then there’s _that_ ,” Stiles says.

“I’m me. I just wanted to talk.”

“Oookay. Come in, then,” Stiles says and steps aside.

Derek climbs in.

“So, what did you want to talk about?”

“I remember what you said last night, all of it,” Derek says, getting straight to the point.

Stiles stares at him. “Even the thing with the fire hose?”

Derek frowns. “No, I don’t remember that.”

“Crap.”

“What?”

“I thought you didn’t really remember anything?”

“I didn’t, then I started getting flashes. I thought I remembered all of it, but obviously not.”

“Well, um, actually, I thought you were trying to trick me into telling you what I did say. I didn’t actually tell you about the fire hose thing.”

“Trick you?”

“One of my dad’s tried and true interrogation methods – he pretends he knows everything and waits for someone, well, me, to implicate myself.”

“Oh. But there is a thing with a fire hose?”

“Oh, sure. If you ever want to have some fun, just say fire hose around Scott. It was, like, four years ago and he still twitches. Actually, my dad does, too.”

Derek snorts.

“Um, so, uh, I didn’t mean it,” Stiles says.

“Didn’t mean what?”

“Whatever’s got you upset.”

“Do I seem upset?”

“Not really? But you said you wanted to talk and that usually doesn’t mean anything good.”

“You’re right. About my pack. About me. I need to be a better alpha.”

“Really? I mean, that’s, yeah, good.”

“I do like Mythbusters. And I will admit to some feeling of kinship with Wolverine, but I also, like you said, like the idea of the Justice League. I always thought Laura was a lot like Wonder Woman. And she did have a great smile,” Derek stops and swallows.

“Yeah,” Stiles says softly.

“Friends don’t become less important. Maybe Scott just hasn’t found his balance yet. I… I can relate.”

“Huh.”

“I will try to be more careful of you. Don’t dye your hair blue,” Derek says.

“Yeah, green’s much more my color,” Stiles says with a smirk.

Derek huffs out a little laugh. He looks into Stiles’ eyes and Stiles sobers a little. “I’m glad you wanted regular Derek back, even if he hasn’t treated you all that well.”

“Wow, okay, and where is he?”

“Stiles,” Derek says curtly, exasperated.

“Oh, there he is.”

“I can’t say that I like your smile.”

“I- That’s kind of insulting. Why even mention it then?”

“It’s that, most of the time, you don’t really seem all that happy when you smile.”

“Well, hello, I’m living in a horror movie. I am a teenager, a comedic sidekick, and a virgin – there’s no way I’m making it to the credits.”

Derek frowns. “I thought it was the people who had sex that died.”

“Well, see, a girl as a virgin can be considered, you know, strong, but a guy as a virgin is almost always considered pathetic. And pathetic usually dies. Although, I guess they have kind of been subverting things in more recent horror movies, sometimes. Not that I think that whether you have sex or not should have anything to do with whether you die, it’s just a horror movie thing.”

“Okay. What was I talking about?”

“How you don’t like my smile,” Stiles says with fake cheer.

“Right. But I do like your face.”

“What?”

Derek smirks at the flabbergasted look on Stiles’ face. “And I’m glad that you think I’m horribly good-looking.”

“I was just- Wait, why are you glad?”

“I did want to keep you safe. Didn’t you wonder why?”

“Because I’m almost Pack? Pack-adjacent?”

Derek shakes his head.

“Uh…”

“You’re going to have to stop being an equal opportunity chest appreciator.”

“What? Why?”

“Well, I suppose you can appreciate. From afar. Werewolves tend to be a little possessive.”

“I- You-“

“But you’ll have _the best_ at your disposal, so that shouldn’t be a problem.”

Stiles looks at him intently. Then he slowly reaches out a hand and tentatively runs his fingers over Derek’s t-shirt covered chest. “My disposal, huh?”

Derek gives a slow deliberate nod and then lets his mouth curve into a real smile.

Stiles smiles back and this one, this smile, Derek likes, because it looks happy, radiantly so.


	29. The One Keeping You Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Prompt](http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/4407.html?thread=3210295#t3210295): s02e04 spoilers: Derek/Stiles, schmoop, h/c. So I was rewatching the Pool Scene of Glorious Sterek, and I noticed that once Stiles realizes the kanima (sp?) is there; he moves back, and then he moves toward Derek. So let's have moments where Stiles immediately gravitates towards Derek when he's in danger, (as opposed to anyone else in the pack or Scott) and Derek protects him. Bonus/all my love for making it a 5+1 times fic

1\. Hidden

Stiles doesn’t know how much longer he can last. He’s only using the fire extinguisher in very short bursts, holding Mr. Gooey Monster at bay. Sooner or later, he’s going to run out and then this thing that’s like The Blob, if The Blob had come out of the La Brea Tar Pits, is going to, like, consume him.

Stiles swallows hard as the canister doesn’t release anything more when he pushes the lever. And like magic, Derek, Scott, and Boyd are there. Stiles throws the extinguisher aside and ducks behind Derek. He’s not hiding, it’s a strategic retreat (okay, no, he’s totally hiding, he’s even got a grip on Derek’s jacket, and Derek is just _letting_ him). And Scott’s eyebrows go up, but whatever. Boyd and Scott go into the fray with some sort of acid while Derek stays between Stiles and The Tar Blob.

2\. Safe

Stiles has actually gotten loose from his bonds by the time Derek breaks down the door. That doesn’t mean that he’s not happy to see Derek. Stiles moves toward him, but stops when he realizes fake vampire dude is back and tracking Stiles with his eyes. The guy may be completely unbalanced and convinced that he’s meant to be a vampire (he’s certainly got the clichés down with his weird contacts, his dental appliances, his pale skin, and his _cape_ ), but the dude’s also got a lot of knowledge of the supernatural. Stiles doesn’t know if he’s got anything among the myriad of assorted weaponry and, like, potion ingredients that will hurt a werewolf, but he’s not sure he should draw attention to Derek, just in case. So, Stiles is torn between either going to Derek and finally feeling safe or moving away from him to keep fake vampire dude distracted.

Derek makes an annoyed noise and glares at Stiles. Stiles doesn’t know what that means, so he goes with his instincts and takes a couple of tentative steps toward Derek. As soon as he’s in arm’s reach, Derek grabs him and pushes him between the wall and Derek’s back. There’s a flurry of movement and then fake vampire dude is down. Stiles breathes out a shaky sigh of relief. _Safe._

3\. Surrounded

Stiles comes tripping down the stairs of the school. Seriously, if he keeps getting attacked here, he’s going to start having anxiety issues about coming to school. Of course, he could just stop coming here at night. The school is creepy enough when it’s dark and deserted, even when he’s not being chased down. Stiles is moving as fast as he can, which, admittedly, is not that fast, but he has been tossed around a bit, well, a lot. And hey, there’s Isaac. Oh good, that means Derek’s probably around.

“Derek?” Stiles asks weakly.

Isaac frowns at him and jerks his head over his shoulder.

And there’s Derek. Stiles makes a beeline for him. Stiles stops in front of him and nearly falls over. “Um, it was in the cafeteria, last I saw, and it-“ Stiles stops, coughing. Gross, blood, he’s coughing up blood.

Derek looks alarmed. “Stiles!”

And is Derek worried about him? “Oh, it’s probably just from my nose. Probably.” 

And then Derek is hauling him somewhere. Derek manhandles Stiles into Derek’s car’s passenger seat. Derek reclines the seat and then shrugs out of his jacket, covering Stiles with it. “Stay here, lock the doors.”

Stiles grabs at his arm, not wanting him to leave, wanting him to stay and protect Stiles, but he can’t say that, so instead he says, “Don’t let it get me again,” and lets go.

Derek gives a curt nod and closes the door. He raises an eyebrow at Stiles. Stiles frowns and then gets it. He hits the door lock button. And Derek walks off. Stiles wants to stay awake until it’s over and he can make sure everyone’s okay. Except now that he’s not moving and he’s relatively safe (and why does he feel safer in Derek’s car than in his own?), he can’t help but succumb to unconsciousness. His last thought as he goes under is that Derek will take care of it.

4\. Under His Wing

Stiles runs into the clearing and stops abruptly. It’s a standoff, werewolves versus hunters. All the hunters have their weapons out and pointed and all the wolves have transformed, but nobody is doing anything. Derek’s in the middle, Scott’s to his right, Isaac’s to his left, and Erica and Boyd are flanking them. Stiles positions himself behind Derek. Scott darts a confused glance at him, but then refocuses on the hunters. Stiles can’t stand the silence and just starts talking about how it would be a very bad idea to kill anyone. He’s surprised when no one tells him to shut up so he keeps going, quoting bylaws because why not? Then he notices a couple of things. One of the hunter’s eyes keep straying from the wolves, one of them is surreptitiously checking his watch, and from this angle, Stiles can see that one of them has the safety on. This is a trap.

Stiles pauses for breath and says in a very soft undertone, “Derek, it’s an ambush. This is for show. They’re waiting for something. We should go now.”

Derek says something that Stiles can’t hear and all the wolves scatter. Derek grabs him and runs. Stiles looks back and sees the clearing light up with those flare arrows. He closes his eyes against the brightness and hangs on as Derek carries him along.

5\. Saved

Stiles is higher than a kite. Unless the kite is stuck in a tree, then it’s not very high. He’s higher than air, except air can be low. He’s higher than Lydia’s IQ. He laughs softly to himself. He doesn’t know what was in that thing’s venom. Wait, is it venom? Secretion, maybe? He shudders. Secretion is a horrible word.

Stiles blinks at the way the walls seem to be wavering. It’s like the whole room is breathing. Maybe he’s been swallowed by something. That would suck. Maybe Scott will rescue him, if he doesn’t get distracted by Allison’s smile or scent or what she’s wearing. Maybe Derek will need him for something. Derek. Derek’s a good guy. No, wait, he really isn’t. Okay, some of the time he is. God, he’s so confusing. It would be nice if he could pick a category in Stiles’ head and stick to it. Enemy, ally, friend, monster, savior, mentor, evil overlord, someone who helps, someone who hurts, someone who threatens, someone who he relies on, someone who he fantasizes about, wait, what? He doesn’t, Derek’s not, okay, maybe Stiles should just stop thinking. Socks. His socks are wet. He’s pretty sure he had shoes at one time, but he doesn’t know where they are. And now he has wet socks. It’s really annoying. He’s tired of the supernatural creature feature of the week coming after him. Maybe he should go after it.

He gets up and turns around and almost runs into Derek. “Derek, hi. When did you get here? Oh, you have to save me.”

Derek tenses and looks around the room. He relaxes slightly when he doesn’t see anything and he frowns at Stiles. “Save you from what?”

“From going after that giant frog thing with wings.”

“Giant frog thing with wings,” Derek repeats slowly.

“Yep. It left. But not before sliming me. I’m maybe a little high or, like, tripping, actually. I’m going to go get it and kill it so that the next whatever knows not to mess with Stiles Stilinski. Stiles Stilinski. Wow, my name is almost like a tongue twister. I like twisting my tongue.”

Derek blinks at him and says again, “Giant frog thing with wings.”

“Yes, why do you keep saying it like that? Ooh, I bet a flamethrower would work on it. I bet I can make one.”

“No.”

“Maybe just hairspray and a lighter, then?”

“No,” Derek says emphatically.

“You never let me have any fun. Whatever, I’ll figure something else out.” Stiles turns away from Derek to go find the thing. But he’s stuck on something. He turns his head and sees that Derek has ahold of his shirt. “What are you doing?”

Derek sighs. “Saving you.”

Stiles thinks Derek seems exasperated with himself, so Stiles turns around and pats him on the arm. “You always do when it’s your turn.”

Derek looks a little bemused. “My turn?”

“Yep, we take turns saving each other. Like a turn-taking thing. A merry-go-round. Wait, is that right? No, I got it! Like a turn _stile_. Get it? Turnstile. Going around. Around, round, curly fries. I’m so hungry. Could we get some curly fries?”

Derek pulls him close and looks into his eyes.

“Are we having a staring contest? We don’t need to, I’m pretty sure you’ll win. You’re pretty good at getting me to flinch.”

“Stiles, shut up.” Derek’s looking up now.

Stiles looks up, too. And, crap, it’s back. “See, I told you.”

“Giant frog thing with wings,” Derek says, this time sounding resigned.

“Yep.”

And Derek finishes his turn.

+1. Guarded

Derek wakes up to Stiles’ voice saying, “I do like guns. In _movies_. But, holding one, I’m always afraid that I’m going to shoot myself in the foot. Or shoot someone else unintentionally. Or intentionally.”

Derek’s head aches and he can feel several still healing wounds. He’s lying in a corner of a room in his family’s burnt out house and Stiles is in front of him, facing out. Derek can’t sense any immediate threat, although he can smell wolf’s bane, but Stiles’ heart is beating fast. Derek sits up gingerly, the floor creaking in different spots in the room as he moves. Stiles whips to the side and Derek can see the gun he’s holding. And the smell of wolf’s bane is coming from it.

Stiles notices him and turns around, pointing the gun at the floor. “Oh, thank God.”

“What is going on?” Derek growls.

“What do you mean?”

“Why do you have a gun? Why is there wolf’s bane? Why am I here? Why do you have a gun?”

“Oh, I guess you did hit your head pretty hard. Erica, Isaac, and Boyd are all, like, rabid. They _attacked_ you. I scared them off, but probably not for long. Also, I thought only alphas had red eyes.”

Derek rubs at his forehead, all he remembers is a sudden crashing noise and then blackness. “They do.”

“Well, all three of them have got red eyes.”

A horrible possibility occurs to Derek. “God.”

“What?”

“There’s a ritual that will give a beta the power of an alpha temporarily.”

“Really? That seems like a really bad idea. Don’t a lot of betas want that type of power?”

“Yes, but the ritual involves the blood sacrifice of a loved one and it can also kill the beta.”

“Well, that probably makes it much less attractive. Can someone else do the ritual? Someone not taking the power for themselves, but like, giving it to a particular beta?”

Derek grimaces. “It’s possible.” The more he thinks about it, the more likely it seems. Someone did this to his pack. Everyone had better come out of this okay or Derek will wreak havoc.

“How temporary is it?”

“A few hours at most.”

“Huh.”

“So, what exactly happened?”

“Near as I can figure, they came after you, there was a fight, and then they knocked a wall down on you. I, uh, overwhelmed their senses and they took off. I tried to dig you out, without much success, but then Scott showed up and he got you out and moved you here. He’s out trying to find them. And I stayed here to watch over you.”

“And why are you here? How did you know?”

“You called me.”

“ _I_ called _you_ ,” Derek says skeptically. Why would he do that?

“Why did you say it like that?” Stiles asks, sounding offended and maybe a little hurt.

“I didn’t mean- I just meant-“

“What possible help could I be?” Stiles asks sarcastically. “Gee, I don’t know, I scared off three alpha-like werewolves and stood watch over your injured ass, but that’s not that helpful, is it? I’ve-“

“Stiles.”

“-been standing here, with a gun, wondering if I was going to have to shoot one of my classmates. Wondering if you were-“

“Stiles.”

“-going to be okay. And you can’t think of a single reason why you would-“

“Stiles!”

“What?” Stiles yells back at him.

“ _I’m_ supposed to protect _you_. I’m not supposed to put you in danger,” Derek says, feeling sick at the thought of his betas, drunk on power, going after Stiles.

“Oh,” Stiles says, calming down. “Don’t be stupid.”

“Stiles.”

“No, really, it’s just my turn,” Stiles says with a smile.

And Derek’s up and in his space. He takes the gun from Stiles and puts it down. Then he gets back in Stiles’ space and leans in. Stiles is watching him with wide eyes. “Say you want this,” Derek breathes against Stiles’ lips.

“Y-yes,” Stiles stutters out.

And they’re kissing. Derek can’t get enough of the taste and scent of Stiles. And all the times that Stiles has looked to Derek for safety, all the times Derek had to make sure Stiles was okay before anything else, all the times they’d saved each other, it all made sense. Derek could go on kissing like this for a very long time, but at the edge of his senses, he can hear something, someone, several someones, his betas. He pulls back slowly and leans his forehead against Stiles’. 

“They’re coming back,” Derek says.

“What? Oh. Oh! Crap, where’s the gun?” Stiles grabs the gun and turns toward the doorway.

“It’s okay. I think they’re back to themselves.”

“Good. But we’ll just make sure.”

And they are back to normal, looking at Derek with guilty expressions. They look a little drawn, Boyd especially, but none of them look or smell ill, so Derek doesn’t have to worry that the ritual will take any of them from him. None of them have any idea who performed the ritual. Looks like they’ll be doing research to see if anyone in town has had someone close to them die or go missing, but that’s for tomorrow. Stiles calls Scott and tells him what’s up. Derek sends Isaac, Boyd, and Erica home to get some sleep.

Derek and Stiles stare at each other and then they’re kissing again. Eventually they pull back and eventually Derek sends Stiles home. They figure out who did the ritual a couple of days later and Stiles has to save Derek again. And then a few days later Derek saves Stiles, just like they’ve been doing. Except now, when the danger has passed and everyone else has gone their separate ways, Derek follows Stiles or Stiles follows Derek and they end up wrapped up in their own little world, wrapped up in each other, safe together.


	30. No One Ever Breaks It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Prompt](http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/3353.html?thread=2815769#t2815769) : [crossover] Stiles-centric, vengeance demon [Buffy: The vampire slayer] Gore, MAJOR character deaths. It's a beautiful autumn day; the sun is bright, the sky is clear and the day is cool, but not chilly. The blood is warm though. Warm and slick at the gaping hole in his side, where his hands are trying to keep his insides from spilling out. It hurts. He uses what little strength he has left and strains to turn his head a few inches. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Allison, even in death clinging to something he's pretty sure used to be Scott. Most of his face has been blown off by a shotgun blast. In his last moments, amidst the bodies of family and hunters alike, driven half-mad with pain and grief, Stiles makes a wish: "I wish Kate Argent was never born." Wish granted.

Stiles blinks his eyes open. He’s lying on the ground in a grassy clearing and the sun is bright overhead. He gasps as he remembers what had just happened and quickly looks around. And nothing. No one else is there. There are no hunters, none of the pack is there, and, most importantly, there are no bodies and it doesn’t smell like blood and cordite. He runs a hand over his side and it’s whole and uninjured. Stiles can’t for the life of him figure out what is going on. It had been like the end of the world, his friends dying left and right. And he had been dying too, losing blood so fast from the wound in his side. But now, it’s like nothing had happened. Maybe it was a dream, maybe it was fevered imaginings of what’s coming. Because an all-out hunter/werewolf war is inevitable, it’s been brewing for months.

Stiles climbs to his feet and looks around the clearing. It’s so peaceful, even though his mind’s eye keeps seeing horrifyingly bloody images of friends. He shakes the images away and breathes in the fresh air, picking up the smell of the leaves starting to turn. He heads out of the clearing and toward the dirt road. He finds his Jeep and it looks like it’s in really good shape, even if he remembers it being thrashed and shot up by hunters trying to force them off the road. He climbs in and drives home, feeling disoriented and apprehensive.

He gets home and his phone rings as he’s walking inside. It’s Scott. He answers, “Scott, hey. I don’t suppose you know why I was out off of that dirt road that goes behind Bailey’s Bluff?”

“Hey, Stiles. I don’t know, was it something for school?”

Well, they are supposed to do a research paper on the local flora or fauna for Biology, but that doesn’t really explain why he was lying on the ground out there, but hell, he could have just gotten distracted. “Maybe.”

“Are we still on for a monster movie marathon?”

“Huh? Aren’t you and Allison doing your thing?” It’s Saturday. If they aren’t fighting for their lives, Scott and Allison are usually doing other things together.

“That’s not funny, Stiles,” Scott says, sounding angry.

“What?”

“You know I really like her. And she only sees me as someone to pity, the guy who had an asthma attack when she asked for a pen.”

Asthma attack? “What?”

“I know you think I should ask her out, but I’m not you. I don’t know how you can keep trying to talk to Lydia and keep getting shot down. If Allison did that, I don’t think I could handle it. You know, on second thought, I don’t really feel up to a marathon anymore.”

“Scott, are you okay?” Because really, what is the hell is Scott talking about?

“Yeah, I’ll be alright. I know you didn’t mean anything by it. I know you were just trying to encourage me. Anyway, I’ll see you Monday.”

Scott disconnects before Stiles can answer. Stiles stares stupidly at his phone. What the hell? Stiles should call him back and figure out what’s going on, but sometimes talking to Scott can make things more confusing, not less, and Stiles thinks this might be one of those times. Stiles wanders into the kitchen, thinking about it. Maybe there’s, like, a spell or something? He’ll do some research, call Allison maybe. But later. He finds a note on the refrigerator from his dad, saying that he should be home by seven. Stiles shakes his head, he gets distracted and forgets to respond to a couple of texts and a voicemail (or, you know, five or six) and his dad resorts to notes as communication. Stiles looks in the fridge and then the cupboards and the pantry. He decides he really needs to go grocery shopping because he doesn’t really want to fix macaroni and cheese for dinner and that’s about all they have right now.

~~~

Stiles is looking at the myriad of cereal boxes. It always takes a few minutes to find whatever cereal he’s looking for, no matter what kind it is. He swears the grocery store must rearrange them on the shelves every time they restock them. He finally spots the Life cereal and puts the box in his shopping cart. He pushes the cart down the aisle before remembering that he should get Chex for his dad. He stops pushing and leaves the cart off to the side and turns back to the cereal only to run right into someone. Stiles starts to apologize, but then he looks up and it’s Peter Hale. Stiles backs up into the shelf and his heart is going like a hummingbird’s wings.

“Are you alright?” Peter asks. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Stiles can’t say anything, he can’t even breathe. He’s so scared. How can Peter be back? How can he be alive? Has he already gone after Scott, after Lydia, after Derek? But weirdly, he doesn’t look all that scary. He doesn’t look disturbed or even all that intense. He just looks kind of concerned. It doesn’t matter, though, the panic is already feeding on itself and black spots are dancing in front of his eyes. He slides gracelessly to the floor, trying to calm himself down, trying to stay conscious. When he hears a feminine voice and sees a very not dead Laura Hale coming toward them, he gives up the fight and lets the darkness take him.

~~~

Stiles wakes up in the hospital to his father’s worried face. Fabulous. It’s been a long time since he’s landed in the hospital because of a panic attack - not since the first one, actually. His dad looks almost as worried as he did then. It’s been a long time since he’s even had a panic attack. Although, really, he had a good goddamn reason for it this time. People coming back from the dead is just bad. How could that even happen? Suddenly, he hears his own voice in his head, saying clearly, “I wish Kate Argent had never been born.” He remembers that. He remembers saying that, right before dying. Remembers thinking how none of the death and destruction would have happened, if not for her. Is that it? Is that what’s going on? If Kate Argent had never been born, she never would have gained Derek’s trust, never burnt down his house with his family inside, Peter wouldn’t have been through that or been catatonic, he wouldn’t have killed Laura or bitten Scott. Scott wouldn’t be a werewolf and… he would still have asthma. Oh.

“I’m okay,” Stiles says.

“Hmm. Any idea what caused this?” his dad asks gently.

Stiles shakes his head. He’s glad, for once, that panic attacks can have non-obvious triggers as well as obvious ones. He really can’t get anywhere near the truth on this one without sounding completely delusional.

“Okay,” his dad says and pats his hand, looking troubled. “There are some people who are a bit worried about you. They wanted to see if you were okay. They’re waiting out in the hall. But you don’t have to see them if you don’t want to.”

Okay, so probably Peter and Laura then. “No, it’s okay, they can come in,” Stiles says, more to ease his dad’s worry than anything else. Stiles takes a few deep breaths as his dad ushers them in.

“Hello,” Peter says a little tentatively.

“Hi,” Stiles says and it’s easier to keep calm now. This isn’t the same Peter. He’s going to try really hard to remember that. It’s bizarre to think that he could have wished this reality into existence, but the evidence is _literally_ staring him in the face.

“You gave us quite a scare. I’m Laura Hale and this is my uncle, Peter Hale,” Laura says.

“Stiles. Stilinski. And yes, that’s a nickname and yes, it’s an unusual one, but I’d much rather go by Stiles than my actual name and no, you don’t get to know what that is. And I’m sorry I scared you.”

Laura’s grinning at him now. “Now I’m really curious.”

“I think maybe I scared you first and I apologize for that,” Peter says.

“It wasn’t you.”

Both Laura and Peter give him skeptical looks.

Right. Werewolf senses. Stiles tries again. “It wasn’t really you. You just reminded me of something.” That’s pretty much the truth.

“Ah. Well, nonetheless, I feel terrible. And so I, we, would like to extend an invitation to you, and your father, of course, to our Sunday dinner tomorrow,” Peter says.

Stiles looks at his dad. His dad looks a little surprised, but nods. “Um, okay. Thanks. We’d, uh, be honored.” 

“Excellent. We have our Sunday dinner around noon. Do you need directions?”

“No, I think we can find it,” Stiles says.

“Good, we’ll see you tomorrow, then. Goodbye, Stiles. Sheriff,” Peter says.

“Bye, Stiles. Goodbye, Sheriff,” Laura says.

Stiles and his dad say their goodbyes as Peter and Laura exit the room. Stiles and his dad look at each other. “That was a little weird, wasn’t it? I feel like we were just invited to tea with the queen or something,” Stiles says.

“Well, they do sort of have an aura about them. Although they do a lot for Beacon Hills, most of it is behind the scenes. They keep to themselves a little more than most and that makes a lot of people curious, which makes for a lot of gossip. I don’t think they’ve ever invited anyone that’s not either family or soon-to-be family for Sunday dinner. You should feel special.”

“Oh yeah, it’s awesome that they felt so bad for the kid who had a stupid panic attack.”

“Hey, it’s not stupid. It just is. Sometimes things get to be too much and that’s okay.”

“It’s just so embarrassing. In the middle of the grocery store.”

“Yes, people will probably talk about it for years to come. Do dramatic reenactments.”

“You’re an awful father, you know that, right?”

“They will talk about it. For a few days, maybe even a couple of weeks, but then someone will break up or Fred Dowd will go streaking again when he gets drunk and they’ll talk about that. And I can’t tell you not to be embarrassed because feelings don’t work that way, but I can tell you that no matter what, you’re my son and I love you.”

Stiles gives him a half-smile. “Love you, too.”

~~~

Stiles gets released from the hospital after talking to a psychologist and his own doctor. His dad takes him to the diner just down the street from the station. They eat, his dad talks about his cases in very general terms and Stiles talks about TV shows, classes (which, thank God, appear to be the same), lacrosse, baseball, movies, music, and whatever else comes to mind. His dad promises to go grocery shopping tomorrow morning if Stiles makes a list. They get home and watch Blazing Saddles. It’s this, though, that really brings it home that things are different. Things between Stiles and his dad had been strained for a long time, what with Stiles lying about almost everything and being in places that he shouldn’t be. But they’re good here, now. His dad isn’t looking at him with suspicion and doubt, just fondness tinged with concern.

After the movie is over, Stiles writes up a grocery list specifying brands and acceptable substitutes and sticks it to the refrigerator. Then he heads upstairs and gets on the internet. He looks for any trace of a Kate Argent related to a Chris Argent. After an hour, he’s pretty sure she never existed and that the Argents have been hunters for a very long time. He is going to be very, very careful to never wish for something unless he absolutely means it. He doesn’t even want to try to look this up. He can think of so many stories where this kind of thing could go so, so wrong. He hopes he didn’t somehow condemn everyone to an even worse fate. He closes out of everything and turns off his computer. He’s just sort of staring off into space when there’s a tap on the door. 

Stiles blinks and shakes himself out of his reverie. “Come in.”

His dad opens the door. “Going to sleep soon?”

Stiles looks over at the clock. It’s almost eleven. He would usually stay up at least another hour, but he is tired. He shrugs. “Yeah, probably.”

His dad comes in and kisses him on top of his head. “Goodnight, kiddo.”

“Goodnight, Dad.”

His dad leaves the room, closing the door behind him. Stiles gets ready for bed and then lies there in bed, trying to think through all the consequences of his wish. It’s a while before he can get to sleep.

~~~

When Stiles comes downstairs the next morning, it’s clear that his dad has already been grocery shopping. It’s also clear that Stiles should really not let him shop (which Stiles knows, he’d just sort of let himself forget so he wouldn’t have to be in the grocery store so soon after his meltdown). Sure, his dad got everything on the list, but then he got all kinds of things that weren’t on the list, things that never would be on the list. His dad is the ultimate impulse shopper. Things are threatening to spill out of the cupboards with one wrong move, the pantry door won’t close and the fridge and freezer are stuffed full. Seriously, his dad got radishes. Stiles thinks he tried a radish once when he was twelve and he doesn’t want to repeat the experience. And he likes pickles, but dill pickle flavored potato chips? Stiles shakes his head and fixes himself a bowl of cereal.

After he finishes eating, Stiles goes back up to his room and looks through his backpack, his notes, his homework, and his textbooks. Near as he can figure, his classes are in the same place and not only has he finished his homework for Monday, he’s worked ahead. It’s something he used to do before the whole werewolf thing. Amazing how much time running and fighting and rescuing can soak up. He laughs a little to see that he’s already picked out a research subject for Biology: Mountain Lions and Human Encroachment. 

He should probably get dressed. He’s not entirely sure what to wear. It should be nice, but how nice? He doesn’t want to look like he’s trying too hard, that’s almost worse than not trying at all. What does one wear to the house of a well-to-do werewolf family? All he can think of is that it should be clean. Oh, and probably corduroy wouldn’t be a good idea. Stiles finds some nice black pants (he might even call them trousers, if pressed) and a red v-neck sweater and puts them on. He looks a little more preppy-ish than he’d like, but at least it looks nice and not too dressy (and he’s maybe wearing a Batman t-shirt under the sweater).

His dad comes knocking on his door, asking if he’s ready to go. He opens the door and he’s glad he dressed up because his dad is wearing a sport coat, a button-down shirt, and jeans. Stiles blinks, it’s been a while since he’s seen his dad in anything but his uniform or sweats. The head downstairs and his dad grabs a bottle of wine. Stiles get nervous on the drive over. He somehow hadn’t even thought about Derek being at dinner. They have a sort of fraught history, or at least they _did_ , and now Stiles is going to have to act as though he doesn’t have any sort of history with him at all. Which worked out _so_ well with Peter. 

“They’re just people,” his dad says quietly.

No, they’re really not. “Yeah,” Stiles says.

“They’re not going to bite.”

Stiles can’t help the snorting laugh that escapes him.

His dad raises a questioning eyebrow.

“Uh, you don’t know that. There’s a rumor that they’re all in a cult. Maybe they’re, uh, vampires.” Stiles cringes, that’s a little too close to the truth for comfort, he did not think that through.

His dad gives him a look. “What goes on in your head?”

“Everything ever.”

His dad shakes his head, but he’s smiling.

They pull up to the Hale house a few minutes later and there are quite a few vehicles parked nearby. And the house is huge. Stiles sort of remembers it from years and years before, but the burnt-out skeleton is too fresh in his mind for this not to be disconcerting. They park and head up to the house, the door opening before they reach it. They’re ushered inside and his dad hands over the wine which is graciously accepted by a woman who Stiles is pretty sure must be Derek’s mom. They are shown to the living room and introduced to, like, twenty-some-odd different people - Derek’s parents, Linda and Doug, Laura, Derek, their little sisters, Megan and Hannah, Peter and his wife (what?), Amelia, Doug’s other brother Mark and his wife Nell, and their twin boys, Sebastian and Eli, Doug’s sister Cassie and her wife Eve, and their little girl Kaitlyn, Linda’s brother David and his son Seth, Linda’s sister Michelle and her husband Wes, and their three kids, Brandon, Kelsey, and Noah. Stiles has a pretty good verbal memory, but there’s no way he’s going to remember all of that. And the enormity of what had been lost, how many people had died because Kate Argent had decided they were monsters, hits him hard.

They all sit down to eat in the dining room, which is actually kind of a dining hall. There’s an enormous table that comfortably seats twenty-five people. As he and his dad get settled, Stiles notes about five different people scenting them, not something he would have even noticed if he hadn’t been so familiar with werewolves. Goddamn werewolves.

“What was that, Stiles?” his dad asks.

And that’s when Stiles becomes very aware that he’d just said the last bit aloud and that just about everyone in the room is now paying very close attention to him. “Uh, nice house.”

His dad smiles. “Yes, it is.” His dad turns to Linda and says, “And, if you could direct me toward a bathroom.”

Linda points and says, “Out that door, left down the hall, third door on your right.”

His dad excuses himself from the table and leaves the room. The attention on Stiles gets more intense, most everyone outright staring at him.

“Sorry,” Stiles says quietly.

“It appears you know a great deal about us. Do you mind telling us how?” Peter asks. There’s a thread of alarm in his tone rather than the menace that Stiles is sure would be in the other Peter’s.

Stiles is guessing that not many humans outside the family know that they’re werewolves. “Uh, I had, um, a friend of mine was bitten by an alpha who wasn’t right, who was… broken, I guess.” He looks at Peter and says, “You, uh, sort of remind me of the alpha.”

“Ah, well, that explain what happened on our shopping excursion. That would be distressing to anyone,” Peter says.

Looks are exchanged around the table and then Linda says briskly, “We would appreciate it if you could tell us more about it. We can help both of them.”

The image of Peter’s body, burned and throat ripped out, flashes through Stiles’ mind, followed by the image of Allison clinging to what was left of Scott. He swallows hard and says, “No, no, you really can’t. They’re both-“ he stops abruptly when his gaze snags on Hannah, who’s maybe twelve, sitting there next to Derek, listening intently. “Gone. They don’t need any help anymore,” he finishes bleakly.

Everyone seems to be talking at once, but quietly, so most of what Stiles hears is a general murmur. Until someone down the table asks in a slightly louder voice, “Wouldn’t we have heard or seen something?”

“You’d be surprised at how much happens with nobody the wiser.” Stiles raises an eyebrow. “Like, say, I don’t know, a family full of supernatural beings living in a small town. Anyway, I’m not going to tell anybody.” Stiles doesn’t want them to be worried about him knowing. But they maybe do have something to be worried about even without the existence of Kate Argent. Because she wasn’t alone when she orchestrated the fire or years later when she captured Derek. “Uh, you should know that there are hunters in town.”

Linda gives him a slightly startled look and says, “Yes, there are, but they have a code.”

Stiles looks her in the eye and says seriously, “Not everyone follows it.”

Linda looks at him thoughtfully. “I thank you, then, for your warning, Stiles, and for your discretion.”

“You’re welcome,” Stiles says, a little flustered.

His dad comes back a bit later and someone asks if his department ever caught who filled the fountain on Main Street with glitter. That’s something that Stiles knows nothing about so he listens with interest as his dad tells the story of a bunch of seven-year-olds who saved the glitter from their arts and crafts program and decided that the water should actually sparkle. The conversation then turns to the PTA and then, inevitably, to lacrosse.

One of the boys, Seth maybe, who looks like he’s about thirteen asks Stiles, “Don’t you play lacrosse?”

“Well, I am on the team and I have all the equipment and I even do all of the exercises at practice, but play? Not so much. I am, I will say, awesome at warming the bench,” Stiles says.

There’s a ripple of laughter from several people. And Hannah pipes up, “Derek was really good at it. I bet he can teach you some stuff. He’s also really good at helping with homework.”

“Oh, Stiles doesn’t need any help there. He finished third in his class last year,” his dad says proudly.

“Dad!” Stiles says, embarrassed. It’s not even really that great, considering he was fourteenth with all the running around and almost dying in the other… reality. With all the extra time for studying he should be first. No wait, there’s still Lydia. But he should be second.

His dad just grins at him.

“I’d be happy to help you out with lacrosse, if you want. We have some sticks here, we could do it after dinner,” Derek says and gives Stiles a big, bright happy smile.

Stiles isn’t sure he’s ever seen an expression like that on Derek, not, like, truly, actually happy. He’s so taken aback that he says, “Sure,” without really thinking about it.

After dinner, Derek grabs a couple of lacrosse sticks and balls and leads Stiles to a grassy area behind the house. Several of the kids follow them out there. Great, just what Stiles needs, an audience. They run through a couple of drills and then play some one-on-one. Stiles takes off his sweater after a few minutes and Derek grins at his t-shirt. The other kids seem to take turns cheering both of them on, not just Derek, like Stiles had thought they would.

After almost an hour, Derek calls it to a halt. “You’re not that bad.”

“I fell four times,” Stiles says, under no illusions.

Derek shrugs. “You’re a little clumsy, but you’ve got pretty good aim and you can run, you just need to work on your lateral game. I can help you with that, if you want.”

“Yeah?”

“Sure. How about Saturday afternoon? Say four? My mom will feed you afterward,” Derek says.

Wow, nice Derek might take a little getting used to. “Okay, yeah, that would be good. Thanks,” Stiles says.

Later that night, at home, in bed, Stiles wonders what else is different. He wonders if Allison is different. He wonders if she knows about her family. He also wonders if he can do anything to help Scott, because while the whole werewolf thing had been pretty sucky for him, it had also boosted his self-confidence. He falls asleep thinking about it.

~~~

The next day, in school, Scott is pretty remorseful, giving him apologetic looks. Stiles can’t figure out why. The teacher is watching them like a hawk, so Stiles isn’t able to ask until the bell rings.

“What’s up, Scott?”

“Dude, you know I wasn’t that mad at you. I heard about your panic attack. I would have come to see you if I’d known.”

Oh, that. “I guess I was a little embarrassed. I freaked out in the grocery store.”

“Yeah, I heard that, too. Sucks.”

“Hey, but I did it in front of Peter Hale and he felt so bad that my dad and I got invited to a Hale family dinner.”

“Seriously?”

Stiles is actually surprised that Scott doesn’t know yet. He tells him about the huge number of family members and the house and playing lacrosse. And apparently Stiles is forgiven for saying anything about Allison as he falls into his old rhythms with Scott.

Stiles keeps an eye and ear on Allison during all their shared classes. She seems to be the same sweet girl she was when they first met, although she’s sort of in Lydia and Jackson’s crowd. Stiles comes to a decision and when Scott heads off to a class he and Stiles don’t share, Stiles goes to find Allison.

Stiles catches her at her locker. “Hey, Allison, I don’t know if you know me-“

Allison smiles, “Stiles, right?”

“Right, anyway-“

Jackson shoulder checks Stiles as he comes up to them. “Is he bothering you?” Jackson asks Allison. He turns to Stiles. “You should find somewhere else to be. Somewhere where you’re wanted.”

“Shut up, Jackson,” Stiles says.

Jackson gets an angry sneer on his face, but before he can say anything, Allison puts a hand on his arm. “It’s fine, Jackson,” Allison says. Then she takes Stiles by the arm and walks them away from Jackson with a little wave. “So, what did you want?” she asks Stiles.

“Do you know my friend Scott?” Stiles asks.

“Yes, he’s kind of shy, but he seems sweet.”

“Yeah, he is. Here’s the thing, he likes you. A lot. Now, I think you might actually like him back. But, you’re going to have to make the first move because he thinks you only see him as the guy with asthma. And he would kill me if he knew I was saying any of this to you, so please don’t tell him.”

“He really likes me?” Allison asks with a blush.

“Oh my God, yes.”

“Thanks, Stiles,” she says and kisses him on the cheek. She walks away with a pleased little smile.

~~~

On Saturday, Stiles is driving out to the Hale house, speeding a little. Scott had had a minor freak out about what he should wear on his date with Allison and Stiles had had to talk him down, so he’s running a few minutes late. Stiles pulls up to the house and Derek is waiting for him. Stiles gives a silent heartfelt thanks to whoever or whatever granted his wish and then climbs out of his Jeep. And it’s probably his imagination, but it seems like the sun shines a little brighter.


	31. No One Does Anything Like That Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Prompt](http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/4407.html?thread=3492407#t3492407): Derek/Stiles. i am seriously craving some hurt!stiles, i'll take pretty much anything. just no character death. please! :3

Stiles looks blearily around the room. It’s sort of weird to be home and not in his own room, but in the guest room downstairs. Not that it’s bad or anything, especially since his dad had gone out of the way to make it as comfortable as possible for him, with a TV, a laptop, and a mini fridge. And it’s so much better than the hospital. Stiles slowly sits up, the pain making him groan involuntarily. And he’s not surprised by the hands that come out of nowhere to help him, even though he didn’t see anyone when he looked around the room. Ever since the accident, everyone has been so solicitous, his dad, Scott, and Allison, naturally, but also Derek, Boyd, Isaac, and Erica, who all snuck into the hospital at various times. So, now that he’s home, well, he was kind of expecting it.

Stiles turns his head slowly. And it’s Derek. Derek moves his pillows and gets Stiles settled against them. “Hey, Derek.”

Derek sits down in the chair next to the bed and doesn’t say anything.

“Still not talking to me, huh? Just here to lurk and, like, fluff my pillows. You know that’s actually weirder than you’re usual brand of weird. I don’t know, are you mad at me? You don’t seem mad, but usually when people aren’t talking to someone, it’s because they’re mad at them. _Are_ you mad at me?” The last question comes out a little more upset than he’d intended, but what with the trauma and the injuries and the medication, his doctor said he’d be more emotional than usual, which is not great or anything, although it’s better than when he’d first woken up and whatever they had given him had made him hallucinate his mom (his dad had had to leave the room and Scott had actually _cried_ ).

Derek shakes his head no.

“Okay, well, then, I’ll just talk for the both of us until you feel like talking.” And Stiles does until he drifts off in the middle of debating to himself the merits of butterscotch versus caramel as an ice cream topping.

When he wakes up again, he’s whimpering because the painkillers have worn off. Derek is gone and he’s lying down again. And Scott is there, with pills and some water, helping him. Everything hurts, his knee where it had been jammed up into the dashboard, his cracked elbow from the door, his bruised all-to-hell collarbone and ribs from the seatbelt, his head from the impact back into the headrest, and the other assorted bruises and contusions. Stiles closes his eyes as he waits for the pills to do their job. He can’t stand the look on Scott’s or anyone else’s face when he’s hurting like this. That helpless and sick expression, when they can’t do anything except wait for the pain to recede, just seems to make it worse. After a few minutes, he starts to feel some relief. He opens his eyes and looks at Scott, who has that miserably guilty look on his face. And he really doesn’t want to play Scott’s I’m-to-blame game. Yes, Scott had been driving, but it’s not his fault that someone else ran a red light and slammed into the passenger side. Stiles could just as easily have been driving, except his Jeep had been out of commission, yet again, due to supernatural interference. And that’s probably part of the problem, if Stiles had been driving, Scott would have had his werewolf healing. Another part probably is, even without the healing, Scott had had barely a scratch on him.

Stiles decides to head off Scott’s self-flagellation with a different subject. “Hey, so, what’s up with Derek?”

“Huh?”

“You know, Tall, Dark, and Really-Scary-When-He-Wants-To-Be. Likes leather, long runs in the moonlight, and turning teenagers into super-powered beings. Has big red eyes, big white fangs, and big sharp claws. Mr. I’m-Too-Sexy-For-My-Shirt-“

“Stiles!”

“Yeah, okay, that last one actually fits a few too many people I know. Let me try again-“

“I know _who_ you’re talking about, but I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh, well, Derek just seems upset. Like, _really_ upset.”

“Oh, well, _yeah_ , of course.”

“What do you mean? Did something happen? Did somebody get hurt?” Stiles asks, worried.

Scott gives him a really confused look. “Yeah, _you_.”

“But that was last week.”

“Stiles, man, he was right behind us in his car. He saw the whole thing. He came over and pulled the door open, nearly pulled it off. All that sound, I couldn’t hear a heartbeat and I don’t think he could either and you looked _dead_. I thought he was going to kill the guy who ran into us, but then you made a noise. Anyway, you really scared us. And I think he maybe, nah, never mind. The whole pack has been really freaked out.”

“Well, I knew that. In the hospital, Erica was, like, masquerading as a candy-striper in an extremely tailored outfit, which I sincerely hope she never paraded through the cardiac department, just to check up on me. Boyd was in my room for hours at a time, but he was so good at fading into the background, none of the nurses ever noticed. And Isaac, I swear one night he slept _under_ my bed. And they’ve all already snuck in here at least once and I’ve only been home, like, a day and a half. And then there’s you and Allison, with me whenever you can be. But Derek, he isn’t talking. I know he doesn’t have my conversational wizardry, but he does actually sometimes use his words.”

“He hasn’t been talking much to anyone.”

“Well there’s not much and then there’s nothing, nada, zip.”

“Maybe he’s afraid of what he’ll say.”

“Wow, Scott, that’s really… insightful of you.”

“Is it? Maybe Allison’s rubbing off on me.”

“I will refrain from making a joke here, this one time.”

“Whatever.” Scott looks up at the ceiling. “Why is your dad asleep right now?”

“Oh, he stays up at night for me. I’m awake more then. For some reason, the p- I wake up more often then. I’m supposed to call him if I need anything. Like seriously, on my phone, or on that walkie-talkie, or just yell. Besides, he knew you’d be here right after school.”

“Allison will be here soon. Do you need any help, um, with…”

“I can get up and use the bathroom all by myself, although it’s a pain in the… knee, actually. It’s nice when someone is here to help me up, but not necessary. See the crutch-cane thing. I’m not bad with it.”

“But it’s easier with some help, right?”

“Isn’t almost everything? And, yes, thank you, I could use some help.” Stiles holds out his good arm to Scott.

Scott takes it and gently helps him to sit up and then helps him out of bed. “Come on.”

~~~

Boyd is sitting on the floor next to the bed, playing a game on Stiles’ phone. Isaac is curled up on the bed next to Stiles, a careful distance away from where Stiles is sitting up, so as to not bump or jostle any of his injuries. Erica’s on the chair next to the bed, buffing her nails, her feet resting on one of Boyd’s legs. Stiles is going through superheroes (and cool villains) to try and figure out which ones fit Isaac and Boyd, to go along with Batman and Catwoman, but all of his suggestions are getting vetoed (he’s pretty sure if he hadn’t been hurt, one of them would have thumped him for suggesting Krypto). But then all three do what Stiles privately thinks of as their ‘Squirrel?’ looks, like they’re hearing or smelling something he can’t. They all get up, each saying goodbye to him (Boyd carefully squeezing his unhurt shoulder, Isaac patting his unhurt arm, and Erica running a gentle hand over his short hair) and then slinking out.

Derek shows up a minute later. Stiles wonders whether the others left of their own accord or if Derek did some sort of alpha thing and told them to go. Stiles sighs. “Hey, Derek.”

Derek looks at him solemnly and sits down in the chair next to the bed.

Stiles looks back at Derek. “I’m worried about you. You seem to feel guilty for this. I mean, Scott does too. And I can sort of understand that, even if I don’t agree. It was the fault of the guy who ran the red light and it’s not like he meant to do it. It was an _accident_ , but you seem to be really good at taking the actions of others on yourself. I guess once you’re wallowing in guilt, it’s pretty easy to just pile more on. But I don’t get it. There was nothing you could have done. I mean there are probably a million little things that could have changed what happened, but you had control over exactly zero of them. You-“

“I should have offered you the bite,” Derek spits out.

“What?”

“I should have offered you the bite. You would be healed. You wouldn’t be in pain. I should have offered, but I was being stubborn.” Derek stares down at the floor.

Stiles frowns. “Peter offered me the bite,” he says, curious about Derek’s reaction.

Derek’s head snaps up and his eyes are red. “He did what?” he growls.

“I said no,” Stiles says absently, turning things over in his mind. “The offer, it means something, doesn’t it? It’s different from someone asking for it. You told Erica, Isaac, and Boyd about being a werewolf and then you waited for them to ask, right? Offering the bite, it’s… meaningful, right?”

Derek gives a short, sharp nod, the red fading out of his eyes.

Stiles grimaces a little at the thought of what it meant from Peter. And then feels a weird fluttery feeling inside thinking about what it means from Derek. “If you had offered, I would have said no,” he says quietly.

Derek’s face goes completely blank.

“Not for the same reasons I said no to Peter. Well, okay, some of the same reasons, but if I had realized that it meant something, I wouldn’t have even considered it, from him. The thing is, and I may be the only person who feels this way, I like me. The me that I am right now. Even the bad parts, sometimes.”

“I wouldn’t say you’re the only one,” Derek says, expression looking a little less empty.

“Also, there’s something to be said about earning your place, rather than just having it handed to you. And I’ve earned my place in the pack and it’s not because of a bite – I had to prove myself. I have earned it, haven’t I?”

Derek looks contemplative and Stiles wonders if he’s ever thought of it like that before. “Yes, you have.”

“If I was ever going to say yes anyone, I, you…” Stiles trails off, unable to actually say the cheesy and, yes, heartfelt ‘you would be the one.’

But Derek looks like he gets it. He’s not smiling exactly, but his expression is sort of… soft.

Stiles shifts because he’s been in one position too long and he moans as pain flares up. He has to resettle his splinted arm which hurts in a totally different way than his braced-up knee does. Stiles never knew there were so many different ways to hurt. When he’s finally semi-comfortable again, he looks at Derek.

Derek’s lips have gone tight. “I don’t like it when you’re in pain.”

“I don’t much care for it either. I’ll heal, though. It may take me a while. And I guarantee that once I’m not sleeping so much, I’ll get really cranky about it, but I’ll heal.”

“I still don’t like it.”

“So, distract me.”

“What?”

“Distract me. I know distraction is usually my area of expertise, but other people can do it too. So, distract me.”

Derek stares at him.

“Okay, on a scale from one to ten, that’s maybe a one, because staring is distracting, but not really what I-“

And Derek is up and leaning over him and _kissing_ him. After a second of shock, Stiles reaches up his good arm to grab hold of the sleeve of Derek’s shirt, to keep him there. But, eventually, Derek pulls back and sits back in the chair and Stiles can’t quite make himself let go.

“Um, uh, okay,” Stiles sputters. “That was really good. Distracting, I mean. Solid ten, no, wait, solid eight.”

“Eight?”

“Well, you have to have room for improvement or you go off the scale.”

Derek lifts an eyebrow at Stiles. “I don’t know, I kind of like a challenge.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, then, distract me some more.”


	32. How You Define Good News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Prompt](http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/3353.html?thread=3306521#t3306521): Derek/Stiles, AU. Stiles gets drunk one night when he's out with his friends and decides to get a tattoo. Little does he know that the symbol he picked--the triskele--is the mark of the Alpha, Derek Hale, and it binds the two of them as mates.

Stiles startles awake to someone pounding on the front door. He rolls over with a groan, keeping his eyes closed, his hangover making him wish he was unconscious. He reaches up to rub at his face and his wrist twinges. That gets his eyes open in a hurry and he stares at his wrist. Oh my God, he actually got a tattoo last night. He wonders if his dad would have been so sanguine about his getting drunk to celebrate graduating high school if he’d known about the tattoo. Probably not - he sort remembers his dad saying something about one free pass. But he is eighteen and even if he’s completely sure nobody should give anyone a tattoo when they are that drunk, he’s technically an adult.

The pounding on the door starts again and Stiles contemplates not answering, but he’s the sheriff’s kid and it might be an emergency. He staggers downstairs and runs into the couch. Damn furniture, always jumping out and causing him to bruise himself. He gets to the door and throws it open. And there stands Tall, Dark, and Angry. Stiles squints at him because he looks familiar. Then Stiles eyes go wide. Crap, it’s Alpha Derek Hale. And he kind of looks like he wants to rip Stiles’ throat out. With his teeth.

“Hey,” Stiles says tentatively.

“I’d be within my rights to kill you,” Derek Hale says angrily, his eyes flashing red.

“W-what?” Stiles asks alarmed.

“How dare you take my mark? How dare you bind us like that? Without my consent?” Hale grits out between clenched teeth.

“Whoa, dude, I have no idea what you’re talking about. What mark?” Stiles asks bewildered.

Hale studies him and looks a little less angry and a little more confused. He reaches out and catches hold of Stiles’ right arm, tilting it so that they can both see Stiles’ new tattoo. “This mark.”

“Oh my God. This is _your_ mark. I just picked it out, it looked cool. Are you sure this is your mark? Maybe it just looks like yours. Aren’t alpha marks supposed to be kept under lock and key? And even if somehow it is your mark, isn’t there supposed to be this whole thing to actually bind you? I didn’t think it could be done without your consent,” Stiles babbles, panicked.

“It shouldn’t have been able to have been done, but we are bound. You didn’t intentionally take my mark?”

“Uh, really, no. I wasn’t even planning on getting a tattoo, but I was really drunk and Lydia said something about tattoos being really cool and there was a tattoo place right there and I was still only, like, half thinking about it, but then Scott was teasing me and said that I couldn’t handle getting a tattoo and so…”

Hale drops his arm and puts a hand over his face. Hale takes his hand away and looks at Stiles. “Stay here. I’ll be back in a few hours.”

“Uh, okay, I guess.” Stiles hadn’t really been planning on going anywhere.

Hale turns to go.

“Wait.”

Hale looks back with a raised eyebrow.

“Hale-“

“Derek.”

“Uh, Derek, then. I’m Stiles, by the way. Derek, don’t, uh, kill anyone. Please. I’m sure it was just a mistake and it can be fixed.”

Derek grunts and leaves. Stiles chooses to take that as agreement. Then he goes back upstairs, pops a couple of painkillers, drinks two glasses of water, and goes back to sleep. He has a feeling he’s going to need all his faculties to deal with this.

~~~

Stiles is up and about three hours later, dressed in actual clothes. His hangover is pretty much gone, but he’s too nervous to eat. He’s been fidgeting around the house for fifteen minutes, not able to settle. He keeps staring at his wrist, wondering what possessed him to get this tattoo and put it there. The placement means something, he remembers from Shapeshifter Social Studies class and his own research, although it’s not really something he’d thought he have to worry about. He thinks back. A mark on the face is a challenge, a mark on the neck is a trophy, a mark on the chest is an affirmation, a mark on the back is an honor, a mark on the leg is a secret, a mark on the ankle is a question, a mark on the foot is an insult, a mark on the arm is a talisman, a mark on the hands is a truth, and a mark on the wrist is a… promise. 

Stiles doesn’t know much about Derek, even though he’s begged and wheedled to try and get Scott or Lydia to tell him anything. And he’s pretty sure they want to, but they aren’t allowed. He knows they tried to get Derek to let him join the pack, or least let him have the sort-of Pack status that both Scott and Lydia have. Derek won’t let any humans in the pack though. There had been an attack almost a year ago by an outlaw pack and most of the Hale family had died and Derek, who hadn’t even been in line for it, became the alpha. The outlaw pack had gone after the humans first, killing them in really terrible ways in front of the rest of the Hale pack. And then Lydia and Scott, who had been out near the Hale house doing an Environmental Sciences project together, had both been bitten by the alpha of the outlaw pack. Derek had holed up for a while before starting to build a new pack, inviting Scott and Lydia to join it (Stiles still isn’t really clear why they didn’t, he just knows there was a compromise and they’re sort-of Pack). But even as Derek had added new members (Jackson, Danny, and Allison), Derek had stayed out of the public eye and none of the pack members talked about him much (which meant, of course, that the rumors about him had flourished). 

Derek’s back and pounding on the door again (okay, maybe he’s just knocking aggressively, but still). Stiles opens the door and Derek stalks in, a sour look on his face. At least he doesn’t look like he’s killed anyone (of course, maybe he’s just really good at cleaning up). Derek stares at Stiles and then barks out, “Pack a bag.”

“What?”

“Pack. A. Bag. You’re moving in with me.”

Stiles blinks. “Excuse me? I’m what?”

Derek blows out an angry breath. “If that mark is noticed and I haven’t killed you or accepted you, it will be a seen as a sign of weakness. So, you’re moving in with me.”

“Can’t we just explain that it was a mistake? I could get, like, laser removal.”

“If this story got out, it would be worse. Nobody reputable would remove it without me being there and then the story would get out.”

“But the, uh, tattoo artist knows.”

“He won’t be talking about it.”

“He’s not dead, is he?”

“No.”

“Also, Scott and Lydia were with me last night.”

Derek scowls at him. “They won’t tell anyone anything. And everyone else that isn’t Pack will be told that we have been secretly seeing each other and I just gave you permission to get my mark.”

“Secretly seeing each other?”

“Yes.”

“Why secretly? Oh, wait, because I’m human and without your mark, someone might see me as an easy target, right?”

“Yes.”

“Um, could I at least tell my father the truth? He’s the sheriff. He’s the only family I have.”

“Fine. Now, pack a bag.”

~~~

So, Stiles actually winds up packing several bags and a couple of boxes. He’s not really clear on how long this is going to go on, but he wants his stuff with him. And he talks Derek into letting him take his Jeep (that’s pretty easy, actually, since all he has to do is remind Derek that if he doesn’t, Stiles either needs to be driven places or has to borrow his car). Derek follows him to the station and sits there glowering as Stiles explains everything to his dad, which is nice and awkward. His dad sighs a lot and even facepalms once. But he gets it. He doesn’t really want any other pack to try to take over this territory. He also asks about college (Stiles got in everywhere he applied). Derek speaks up then, saying that they’ll figure something out. His dad then formally asks Alpha Hale to please watch over his son and to try not let him come to any harm. Derek acquiesces and they shake hands. His dad hugs Stiles and makes a joke about the house being quiet, his tone may be lighthearted, but his eyes are sad. Stiles swallows hard and promises to have dinner with him in a couple of days.

And it’s weird being at the Hale house. He has his own bedroom, although it’s part of a suite so it shares both a bathroom and sitting room with Derek’s bedroom. It’s nice that he sort of knows the rest of the pack, even if they mostly ignore him after Derek explains the situation and tells them to be careful around him. Well, he’s actually okay with Jackson ignoring him, even though he’s slightly less of a douche as a werewolf, slightly. He doesn’t know Allison all that well since she’d been changed not long after moving to town and she, Jackson, and Danny tended to stick to themselves in school after being changed, with the occasional lunchtime gathering with Lydia and Scott (that Stiles wasn’t invited to, despite the fact that Scott and Lydia wanted him there). Stiles guesses it would be nice if Danny didn’t ignore him, but, honestly, before the whole werewolf thing, Stiles had seemed to annoy Danny, so maybe it’s for the best.

Of course, now that he’s not drunk or hungover or dazed by his sudden change in circumstance, he’s pretty sure he knows how this happened. He wants to be angry with them for the manipulation, but he kind of understands why they did it. Stiles would never ask for the bite and Derek wouldn’t have a human in his pack. And Scott and Lydia have always thought of him as part of their pack. He’s the one they came to first when they were scared or angry or needed to figure something out, even if he sometimes did end up sending them to Derek. But he wasn’t going to leave them, which he maybe should have made clear. It’s the reason he applied to so many colleges, so that he, they, would have options.

Once upon a time, Stiles was going be a white knight to Lydia’s perfect princess, but that was when they were eight. They actually became friends later that year, all three of them, and weirdly enough, it’s because Lydia and Scott got in an actual fight, like a pushing and hitting and biting type fight. Stiles broke it up and then made up a wild story about a bird and a raccoon for when the adults came running. Scott, with a bloody nose and dirt in his hair, had added how Stiles had chased them off. And then Lydia, with a scratch on her arm and the hem of her dress torn, had nodded solemnly. They had gotten cleaned up by the school nurse and Lydia had flounced off with her mother. But the next day, she’d come and sat next to them at recess. The crush morphs over the years, mostly because Lydia is pretty good at being her own white knight. But it’s not until they’re fourteen that Stiles gives up on his crush on Lydia, after she gets drunk for the first time, kisses Scott, throws up on Stiles’ shoes, and tells Stiles he’s like the brother she always wanted when he helps her sneak back into her house and get cleaned up. On the one hand, it’s kind of sad to be giving it up, on the other, it probably makes him a better friend, more willing to call her out on her crap. Because while he may love her queen bee superciliousness, he very much doesn’t like her why-no-I-haven’t-got-a-brain-in-this-pretty-little-head act. They all balance each other out, Lydia and Stiles can nerd out and help Scott with his grades, Stiles and Scott can get their geek on and keep Lydia grounded, and Scott and Lydia can do their beautiful people thing and save Stiles from obscurity.

Stiles catches Scott and Lydia before they can leave. “So, tattoos are really cool, huh?”

Scott and Lydia look at each other. “It was my idea,” Lydia says.

“I went along with it,” Scott says.

“But we only made it so his mark was in the mix. You’re the one who actually picked it and picked where to put it,” Lydia says.

“Yeah, we decided to leave it up to fate. Um, after we gave it a little push,” Scott says.

Stiles raises an eyebrow. “So you decided to tie me to an alpha.”

“Not forever. There’s a way to break the bond after seven lunar cycles without either of you losing face. And we thought that would be enough time for Derek to get to know you, for him to understand what you would do for his pack, to realize that you are truly part of ours,” Lydia says quickly.

“He could have killed me,” Stiles says mildly.

“Not Derek. He’s not like that. He’s grouchy and a little scary, but overall, he’s a good dude,” Scott says.

“You have to know I wasn’t going to leave you behind. Do you have any idea how many good schools are a less than a six hour drive from here? I do, because I applied to all of them. I was looking into web classes and commuting options for all of us. I know you’re sort of tied here, but I was trying to find a way to make it work. And I will. Actually, since you know, we all will.”

“Oh,” Lydia says and makes an apologetic face.

“Oh,” Scott echoes.

“Well, what’s done is done, I guess. A least now I get to know some pack stuff, get to know your sort-of alpha. Plus, hey, a swirly wrist tattoo, that will bring all the boys and girls to the yard, right?” Stiles asks.

Lydia gives a supportive nod, even if her expression is skeptical.

Scott doesn’t even try and shakes his head no.

~~~

Stiles is hanging out in his room later that night, doing nothing in particular. No more schoolwork and he doesn’t feel like diving into his search for the right program of study. Seven lunar cycles, he can do this. He can totally live here, in this big house, where nobody talks to him. Of course, he can always talk, because, hey, werewolf hearing. He thinks about that and wonders if they can turn it off because there are just some things that don’t need to be listened to. They can probably focus on something else, maybe.

The next few days are kind of boring. He feels like an assigned roommate – not horrible enough for anyone to ask for reassignment, but not awesome enough to do more than semi-polite greetings. He gets out of the house when he can, going to several meals with his father. When he’s at Hale house, he tries not to eat at the same time as the pack because he feel like he’s intruding when he’s there and they make small talk. It gets better when Scott and Lydia start coming over more. When they include him in everything, it seems to give Jackson, Danny, and Allison permission to not ignore him, but only when Derek’s not around. Stiles is pretty sure that Derek must have told them not to get too attached to Stiles. So Stiles finds a balance.

~~~

Stiles wakes up in a panic. His heart is pounding and there’s a mounting feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. He gets up and frantically searches for his phone. His bedroom door flies open and Derek is standing there, frowning. “What’s wrong?” Derek asks.

“I don’t know. I don’t- Lydia! Something’s wrong with Lydia. Crap, where is my phone?”

“What’s wrong with Lydia?”

“I don’t know. Just, something’s really wrong.”

Derek nods and says, “I’ll go find her.” 

“Okay.” 

Derek turns and walks out. Stiles grabs some flip-flops and shoves them on and then follows Derek, catching up to him at the door that leads out of the suite.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Derek asks, eyeing Stiles in his big faded t-shirt, sleep pants and flip-flops.

“With you. To find Lydia.”

“No, you’re not,” Derek says curtly.

“Yes, I am.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am.”

“You. Are. Staying. Here,” Derek bites out, commandingly.

And even though Stiles feels like maybe he should back down, he won’t. He can’t. “No. I. Am. Not. I will go on my own.”

“I can find her and get her back here in less time than it will take you to track her down.”

Stiles looks at Derek. That’s probably true.

“Please, stay here,” Derek says gruffly.

Stiles blinks at the ‘please’ and gives in. “Fine, I’ll stay here.”

Derek studies him and then grabs him by the arm and pulls him over to Derek’s bedroom.

“What are you-“

Derek opens the door. Jackson, Danny, and Allison are all sitting up in a huddle on the biggest bed Stiles has ever seen in his life. Seriously, it’s the size of two king-sized pushed together. Derek pulls him over to the bed and pushes him down to sit on it next to his pack. Derek says, “Make sure he stays here and make sure he’s okay. I’m going to get Lydia.” Derek leaves.

Stiles tries to get up, wanting to go to his own room and call Scott and, like, pace or something. But hands gently latch on to him to keep him on the bed. “No, stay here with us. Derek will bring her back here,” Allison says soothingly.

They coax him into lying down with them. He’s used to this with Lydia and Scott and it is comforting, but he can’t stop his fingers from fidgeting. Stiles is only a little surprised when Scott shows up – he’d thought Scott would go looking for Lydia. Maybe he did and couldn’t find her. It doesn’t really matter. Scott crawls up on the bed, close to Stiles and wraps a hand around Stiles’ arm, just above his elbow. That’s not actually a werewolf thing – Scott’s been latching on to Stiles’ arm since they were five. Stiles has a theory that Scott somehow transferred his feelings from his lost Curious George doll to Stiles, in essence, Stiles became his comfort blanket. The whole werewolf thing really reinforced it, though.

Stiles can feel how tense Scott is and he knows how strung out he feels, so he starts talking. About scents, about the way the air smells when fall kicks over into winter, about the way a fair smells like cotton candy and fried everything, about the smell of cotton sheet just out of the dryer, about the smell of freshly baked bread and Scott starts to calm. It usually works, Scott’s sense of smell is his strongest and he responds well to sense memory. With Lydia, it’s her sense of hearing.

And they wait. Time moves like molasses. Then, after an endless amount of time, the wolves all perk up. Derek walks in, carrying an awfully limp Lydia. He puts her gently down on the bed. Scott and Stiles curl up around her. Stiles gives Derek a look the demands answers (he hopes). Derek says, “There was an ogre. She fought him off, but he really did some damage to her. She’s still healing.”

Stiles looks at him a says very softly, “Thank you.”

Derek gives a little nod.

Lydia’s eyes blink open then. “Almost done. Stiles, talk.”

So Stiles talks. He talks about the sound of Lydia’s baby cousin laughing, about the sound of a soft summer rain, about the sound of a heartbeat, about the sound of Rice Krispies after the milk has been poured, which makes Lydia laugh. Stiles continues to talk as both Lydia and Scott drift off. Derek has gotten in bed and is cuddled up with his betas, the two groups close on the bed, but still distinct, and Stiles catches him looking at Stiles with a thoughtful expression.

~~~

Things get a lot better after that. Jackson, Danny, and Allison don’t treat him like a pariah at _any_ time (though any conversation with Jackson usually involves Jackson insulting Stiles a lot, but maybe only half of it is deliberate). And Derek even directs actual words at him now (not much, he’s not really much of a talker to anyone, but his glowers have downgraded to glares, his scowls to frowns, and his irritation to exasperation). And the whole piling together to sleep in Derek’s bed is now a semi-regular thing. At least a couple nights a week, Stiles, Scott, and Lydia will end up there. They are still two separate groups, but they’re inching closer each time.

The first full moon after Stiles moves in is interesting. Stiles is out on the porch, in the moonlight, as the wolves are all out running. He has extra clothes because even though their wolfed-out forms are fine in clothes, Scott somehow manages to rip or tear either his or Lydia’s clothes (Stiles had thought Lydia was going to rip Scott’s throat out the first time he tore something of hers, now she wears stuff that is less expensive to replace, well, _slightly_ less expensive). Every once in a while, Scott and/or Lydia will dart out of the woods, come to him, circle around him, touch him on the arm or the back or the top of his head, and then dart back into the woods. He teases them sometimes about how puppy-like their behavior can be.

Stiles rubs at his wrist where the tattoo is, it’s been feeling weird all night. There’s a thump behind him and Stiles turns to see Derek there, in his beta wolf form and not the full alpha wolf form. He’s also shirtless. Stiles stares at his chest for a second (because, wow) before looking up. “Uh, hey.”

Derek tilts his head and looks at where Stiles is worrying at his wrist. “Something wrong with your mark?”

“Huh? Oh, it feels strange.”

“Strange?”

“Like, tingly? And almost itchy.”

Derek reaches out and grabs his right hand. He brushes Stiles’ other hand away and turns it so the tattoo is fully exposed to him. Then he bends down and licks the tattoo, it’s an odd, heated sensation and the tingling sort of itch fades away immediately. Derek straightens up, drops Stiles’ hand, and steps away. Stiles stares at him.

Then Lydia and Scott come running out of the trees. The run around Stiles, playfully snapping and chasing after each other. Scott runs a clawed hand carefully down Stiles’ right arm, his nose twitching a bit. Lydia rubs her shoulder along his back and then they’re running back to the woods.

“You’re good with them,” Derek says.

Stiles shrugs.

“They told me you were part of their pack. I didn’t believe them. Or maybe I just didn’t _want_ to believe them. Either way, I was wrong.”

And that feels sort of momentous, but Stiles doesn’t want to make too big a deal over it since Derek is talking to him like he’s more than someone that Derek has to put up with. “I’ve known Scott since we were five and we’ve all been friends for ten years. It’s, we’ve been through a lot. Whatever they need me for, I’m there.”

Derek nods.

There’s a happy howl from the woods and Derek’s lips quirk up. He sniffs the air and then darts off into the woods.

~~~

It’s one of the pile together nights and they’ve graduated to not having an invisible line separating the two groups. So, Stiles is between Lydia and Scott and Jackson is butted up against Scott, an arm thrown over Scott’s stomach and then the rest of Derek’s pack is beyond Jackson. Sometimes the werewolves make this little humming noise. It’s oddly comforting. Stiles kind of likes these nights, but he’s glad it doesn’t happen every night. Sometimes he needs some alone time, especially as he’s around all of these terribly attractive people. But this is nice.

Stiles wakes up on edge. Everyone else is still asleep, except Derek, who isn’t there anymore. It’s really early, dawn just beginning to break. Stiles feels like he should find Derek. The urge grows stronger as the seconds tick by. His wrist feels too warm and he rubs at it. He nudges Scott and Lydia awake and soon enough they’re jumpy too. He goes ahead and wakes up Danny and lets him wake up Jackson (he can be awfully vicious in the mornings) and Allison (she kicks out reflexively upon being woken). 

“Uh, you guys feel anything?” Stiles asks them all.

“Yeah, you being all weird and flaily,” Jackson says with a grimace.

“No, like, from Derek,” Stiles says.

Danny gets a pensive look on his face. “Maybe. Like he wants us to come to him, but he also wants us to stay… safe.”

“I think, I think we need to find him,” Stiles says. “Come on, let’s get dressed and get downstairs.”

They all get ready really quickly, like they feel an urgency. All the wolves stop and sort of freeze when they get downstairs. 

“What?” Stiles asks quietly.

“There’s another pack outside with Derek,” Scott says.

They don’t say any more, just head outside. A little ways from the house, Derek is standing in front of a group of nine people. Allison, Jackson, and Danny all come up behind Derek to his right, Lydia and Scott to his right, they spread out a little in a lop-sided vee with Derek at the apex. Stiles comes up behind Derek, staying a couple feet back.

A dark-haired woman in front of the other group says, “Ah, your pack is here, Alpha Hale, and, of course, your bondmate. That’s part of the reason we stopped in. We’d heard your good news and thought congratulations were in order.”

Derek doesn’t say anything. Stiles is sort of confused. He studies the group in front of Derek and then he gets it. She’s not their alpha. And if Derek speaks to her in a situation like this, he’s kind of lowering himself. Welcome to the wonderful world of werewolf politics, where almost everything is a power play. None of Derek’s betas talk either, so he must not want any of them trying to navigate the tricky waters of protocol. Stiles suddenly realizes that his bondmate status and it’s ambiguity, especially as he’s human, can be used to their advantage. He clears his throat. “We, of course, appreciate that thought and would like to thank your alpha personally.”

Off to the left of the woman, an unassuming man with dark hair and dark eyes gives a wry grin and inclines his head.

Stiles gives a bright smile. “Well, thank you very much for your consideration, Alpha…”

“Kessler. You play the game well,” Alpha Kessler says to Stiles. Then he focuses on Derek. “Nice young pack you have here, Alpha Hale.”

“Thank you,” Derek says formally.

There’s a few minutes of relatively polite talk and then Kessler’s pack leaves. Derek stands there silent for a few minutes after they’re out of sight. Everyone follows his lead. Then Derek takes a deep breath and relaxes. “Scott, Lydia, that was well done.”

“Stiles and Lydia did all of this research into werewolf behavior and have kind of drilled me in it, too,” Scott says.

Derek nods. They all head into the house. Derek catches Stiles before he goes in. “Thank you,” he says.

Stiles shrugs. “No problem.”

~~~

The next few days are a little odd. Stiles has some weirdly conflicting feelings. He’ll be relatively content and then have something like anger or sadness well up, but be strangely distant, muted almost. And the tattoo, the mark is acting up again. But not like on the full moon, it’s not itchy or tingly, it’s like it has weight to it all of a sudden. Like it’s not just ink. Stiles is aware of it almost all of the time now. He tries to ignore it, somewhat successfully. He’s included in most of the pack stuff now and even makes suggestions (he’d tried to hold back, but it’s honestly not in his nature). And he’s almost got his college plan in place. He just needs to talk to Scott and Allison about it. And Derek.

~~~

They all stare at him. Then Scott sort of jumps on him, hugging him. Lydia studies him with narrowed eyes and he meets her gaze calmly. Then she smiles and gives a regal sort of nod. Stiles has no idea how Derek feels about it, his expression seems rather determinedly blank. With online courses, a carefully chosen program of study and coordination with both Scott’s and Lydia’s plans, he’s worked out a plan so that they only have to be on their respective campuses (Stanford for Lydia, UC, Berkeley for Stiles, and Carrington College for Scott) two or three days a week. And he’s got a few prospective apartments in scoped out in San Leandro and Hayward that they can share. They can drive over on Monday afternoons and back on Thursdays, still able to spend a lot of time here.

“Is this what you want?” Derek asks.

“Uh, I, yeah, I mean, you do not know how long I spent figuring out logistics and speaking to advisors and even a dean or two to get this all worked out,” Stiles says.

“I could move the pack,” Derek says.

“You could? I kind of thought this was your territory,” Stiles says, a little bewildered.

“Arrangements can be made. I will do what’s best for my pack,” Derek says with a frown.

Stiles has a feeling there’s a lot that Derek isn’t saying, but it’s heartening to know how much he cares about those in his charge. “Well, let’s just go with this for the first semester. We can reevaluate it before spring semester registration.” Stiles doesn’t really want to bring up the seven cycle thing, right now.

Derek nods.

A couple of days later Derek hands Stiles some house listings. He eyes Derek and then flips through them. They’re all big houses near big parks in the San Francisco Bay Area. “Um, okay, these are all pretty expensive,” Stiles says hesitantly, looking at Derek.

Derek shrugs. “The pack can afford it.”

“I thought we were going to see how it went.”

“You, Scott, and Lydia will still need a place to stay while you’re there.”

Stiles isn’t sure what to say to that.

“Danny hasn’t brought it up, but I know he applied and was accepted to a few places. I think if you could work with him, you could help him figure out a schedule and he could go down with you. And the rest of the pack would want to be able to visit.”

“Oh. Well, I could do that. What about Allison and Jackson?”

Derek sighs. “There are some… family issues with both of them. But maybe they’ll decide to do something later.”

“Okay.”

Derek gestures to the listings. “Pick one and I’ll get the paperwork started.”

Stiles looks down at the papers. “But what about the others? Don’t they get a say?” He looks up, but he’s talking to air. Derek is gone.

~~~

Stiles finally goes to Derek about it when the mark starts to get warm at certain times. Not hot, not like it’s burning or anything, just warmer than the skin around it. It doesn’t hurt, it’s just sort of freaking him out. Stiles would look it up himself, but there are certain things werewolves don’t make public knowledge. There are vague rumors, but nothing is ever substantiated. Bonding, for instance, there’s a lot about everything leading up to it getting the mark, but everything after that is very general – like the fact that the bond isn’t permanent and needs time to cement itself, but how much time and how exactly it gets cemented aren’t things he could find. If after seven lunar cycles, the bond isn’t cemented, both parties are encouraged to dissolve the bond, although, apparently that’s not necessary. And there’s a lot about intra-pack rituals, but not nearly as much about inter-pack rituals. Someday, he’s got to get Derek to let him read some of his family’s journals.

“What, exactly, does it feel like?” Derek asks.

“It, like, heats up sometimes. Just a little.”

“Sometimes.”

“Yep. Maybe once or twice a day, at random times.”

“Anything else?”

Stiles isn’t sure how to phrase it. “I don’t know, I guess it, the tattoo, kind of feels _heavy_.”

“Heavy?”

“More significant? More substantial. Like it’s metal instead of ink.”

Derek looks a little shocked. “How long has it felt that way?”

“Maybe a week. What’s going on?”

Derek opens his mouth and then closes it and is silent for a while. “I have to check a couple of things before I can answer.”

“Uh, okay.”

Derek turns and leaves.

“Bye,” Stiles calls out.

Derek throws a half a wave over his shoulder.

“Huh, that was a little weird,” Stiles says to himself.

~~~

Stiles is watching everyone play Calvinball. He’s on the sidelines after an unfortunate meeting with a tree while he was running. He and Scott used to play all the time – all they needed was a ball or something they could pretend was a ball and a little (or a lot) of imagination when it came to making up rules. Lydia had been awesome at it when their duo became a trio (she was good at wickedly complicated rules with horrible penalties). But they hadn’t played in a while.

And this feels good, right somehow. Stiles knows how many ways you can define a family. It can be two or ten or a hundred. This feels like family. Stiles had always wanted to be part of a big family. And now he kind of is. He wonders if Derek would like kids. Maybe they could adopt a- Stiles thoughts screech to a halt there. What is he _thinking_? This isn’t permanent. Even if Derek decides that Stiles is part of the pack after they dissolve their bond, and that’s a big if, that’s not something he’d want with _Stiles_. Stiles doesn’t even know where the thought came from. Well, that’s not exactly true. Stiles is excellent at falling for people he has no chance with. He really shouldn’t have because Derek is all gruff and glower-y, but the thing is that Derek is really good at taking care of people, he _cares_ , and that is apparently a weakness of Stiles’. He is so screwed.

~~~

Stiles has been working to get everything ready. Danny’s classes had been kind of tricky and then Allison had shyly asked if he could help her set up some art classes and some first aid training (he’d gotten a warm feeling inside when he’d realized that the first aid was probably mostly for his benefit). Also, once he’d picked a house out of the listings Derek had given him, everything had been expedited and now there’s furniture to pick out (Derek wants Stiles’ opinion on a lot of it and Stiles isn’t entirely sure why). Plus, he keeps trying to research his phantom feelings – he really doesn’t think they’re tied to either grief or trauma. Anyway, Stiles is exhausted and he falls asleep on the massive couch in front of the TV, watching a Criminal Minds marathon.

Stiles wakes up feeling very warm and heavy. Allison and Lydia are each half on top of him on either side, sleeping. He should have expected it, sleeping out in the open in the house is practically an invitation for anyone else to curl up with you. Something makes him look around the room. His gaze catches on Derek, in the shadows, watching with a pensive expression on his face.

“Did you need me for something?” Stiles whispers.

Derek studies him with a small frown. “No, but come and find me later, after they wake up. We can go for a drive and… talk,” Derek says softly and glances down at Stiles’ wrist.

“Uh, okay.”

Derek gives a little nod and leaves the room.

Derek had sounded sort of neutral, but Stiles feels like there’s something ominous about them talking. Lydia shifts restlessly and Allison makes a tiny little whining noise in her throat. Stiles pulls them a little closer and puts thoughts of talking to Derek out of his mind for the moment. After a few minutes, he drifts off again.

~~~

They’re parked on a bluff overlooking Beacon Hills. Derek hadn’t said a word on the drive over. Stiles had tried to follow his lead, but Stiles and silence have a sort of contentious relationship, so that didn’t last long. Stiles had talked about weather (la niña, how high weather balloons can go, if a tsunami could change weather patterns), sports (why lacrosse is more popular than baseball, if there was an all werewolf basketball league, why fairies like golf so much), and the new troll laws. Derek had only responded with some grunts and few looks, but they were eloquent.

Derek interrupts Stiles’ story about the time he’d brought home a snake. “You probably don’t remember, but we met before. Before I was Alpha.”

“What?” Stiles certainly does _not_ remember that. Some of the Hale family had been very outgoing and very involved in community matters, but not Derek. Actually, Stiles only remembers seeing him around town a handful of times and most of those at a distance.

“I guess you had actually played in a lacrosse game and taken a pretty hard hit. I heard that you had collapsed later because of a head injury ”

“Oh.” Now it makes sense. Stiles had only been put in a few games during his lacrosse playing games and during one of them, he’d actually gotten a concussion, which nobody had realized until he’d passed out a few hours after the game. He can only barely remember the game and nothing after getting hit until he’d woken up for the third time the next day.

“I came to a party to pick up one of my cousins. You ran into me and then told me ten different things about werewolves.”

“I did?”

“I had to check into a couple of them because I’d never heard of anything to do with xenon or about gadolinite. Turns out you were right about them.”

“I was always good at research,” Stiles says a little smugly.

“The point is if that pack that attacked my family hadn’t… If it hadn’t happened the way it did, I might have asked you to join the pack.”

Stiles feels his eyes go wide with surprise. “Really? I have lots of werewolf facts now, you know. There’s this one ritual you can do during a blue moon, but you have to have a copper knife and the plucked tail feather of a live eagle. It can-“

“Stiles.”

“Right, I’ll stop. I’m guessing that isn’t the only thing you wanted to talk about.”

Derek hands him a business card. Stiles reads it over and over again, hoping it will make sense. He looks at Derek, who looks like he’s waiting.

“Tattoo removal?” Stiles croaks.

“If you’re going to do it, you have to do it soon, before the next full moon.”

“What? Before the next full moon? What about the seven cycles? Wait, what do you mean _if_?”

“The mark, what you’ve been feeling, the bond is cementing itself. It usually doesn’t happen quite like this, but it is happening.”

“Cementing itself? How?”

“Usually, cementing a bond is very deliberate, but different things work for different bondmates. But it can happen unintentionally.”

“But how exactly? If it’s deliberate then there have to be steps or guidelines or something.”

“Not really. I mean, most believe that sex helps. Being in love is supposed to help, but I’ve known bondmates who weren’t. Some believe that it has more to do with the wolf side of the alpha. Some think that both the wolf side and the human side have to want the connection. And some believe that two souls must intertwine, though, as far as I know, no one’s figured out a definite way to do that.” Derek shrugs. “I don’t know why it started, just that it has. And it has to be dissolved before you start feeling my emotions.”

Stiles cringes.

“What?” Derek asks.

“Um, it’s maybe too late?”

“You’ve been feeling my emotions,” Derek says grimly.

“I, there have been some feelings that seemed sort of remote. Like, I’ll be fine, just doing my thing and then there will be this little well of sadness, but like it’s been shielded or something.”

Derek leans his head against the steering wheel.

“Sorry,” Stiles says timidly at the same time Derek mumbles it.

“Wait, why are you sorry?” Stiles asks.

Derek leans back again and looks at Stiles. “Because no one can tell for sure how a bond gets cemented between bondmates, but it has to start from the alpha. Why are you sorry?”

“Well, even though it wasn’t intentional, I am the one who got the mark.”

“Yes, but that was just Lydia and Scott trying to keep their pack together.”

“You knew?”

Derek rolls his eyes. “The second you said their names.”

Stiles smiles a little. “You said that it has to start from you. Does that mean that you wanted to be bonded to me?”

“Yes,” Derek says very softly.

“You know, it may start from the alpha, but I think the other bondmate has to complete it, otherwise, what’s the point? And unless _you_ didn’t want the bond, given the choice…” Stiles holds up the business card and rips it up.

Derek blinks at him. “You want this?”

“Yeah.”

“It can be platonic.”

Stiles can’t help the small, disappointed, “Oh,” that comes out of his mouth.

“But it doesn’t have to be,” Derek says, his voice deep. And then he’s leaning towards Stiles and Stiles definitely doesn’t let out a little squeak before Derek’s lips settle on his. The kiss is good, great even, but Stiles is a little distracted when the tattoo warms up. Derek pulls back a little and wraps his hand over the mark and then kisses Stiles again. And this time it’s not just great, it’s amazing. Stiles feels like he’s lighting up on the inside. He also feels like he could come at any second just from kissing.

Stiles pushes Derek back a little. “Wait, wait,” Stiles says.

“Too fast?” Derek asks.

“No, not enough room.”

Derek lets out a little surprised laugh.

“Yeah, you think I’m kidding? I will accidentally elbow you or hit myself in the face or hit my head and nothing kills the mood faster than having to make a trip to the emergency room. So, let’s go home. You can send everyone else out to a movie or something.”

Derek gives him a quick hard kiss, then pulls back, puts Stiles seatbelt on, then his own, and turns on the car. The drive back is a lot faster than the drive out.

~~~

Stiles is sitting in the shade, watching Allison, Scott, and Jackson frolic in the pool. He can’t call it anything else. He would be doing it too, if it wasn’t for his epic sunburn from five days ago, the last time they were here at their Lake Chabot place. Classes are going well for everyone that taking them, even Scott (all he needed was something he was really interested in). Jackson’s happy doing his own thing (he’s really good at online investing). Derek’s in his home office debugging and testing an accounting program (not exactly what Stiles had expected, but Derek seems happy enough). Or not, because Derek’s now sitting next to Stiles. He doesn’t slide an arm around Stiles because Stiles’ skin is still red and tender. He does slide a couple of fingers over the tattoo on Stiles’ arm and a thrill runs up Stiles’ spine. Then Derek stands up and raises his eyebrows at Stiles and starts to walk back to the house. Stiles gets up and follows him as the sound of catcalls from the pool fill the air. Stiles smiles and hurries to catch up.


	33. Something’s Got to Go Right, Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Prompt](http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/4407.html?thread=3693879#t3693879) by [](http://lirren.livejournal.com/profile)[**lirren**](http://lirren.livejournal.com/): Stiles/anyone major angst. Stiles has, so far this season, really been going through a lot and it's been building and building, and there's been no real release for the pressure. With the latest revelation about his dad's job, things are coming to a head, but he doesn't even confide in Scott. So I want to see some serious, major Stiles breakdown. I want to see him just completely falling apart, and none of the rest of his friends or the pack even noticing that anything is going on, which just makes it worse. I don't care who finally realizes the problem and tries to resolve it (although you get major bonus points if it's Isaac or Erica, and triple word score if it's both Isaac and Erica), just give me a somewhat happy ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set during episode 2x09 (Party Guessed), in the days between the rave and Lydia’s party.

Stiles doesn’t even realize he’s crying until the road in front of him is completely blurred. He blinks and finds somewhere to pull over. He sits there and shakes, letting the tears come for long minutes. It’s been one thing after another with no end in sight and people keep dying and sooner or later it’s going to be someone (or everyone) that’s important to him. Eventually, the tears stop. Stiles dries his eyes and stares at himself in the rearview mirror for a few seconds before he looks away. He looks back at the mirror and then the side view ones, this time checking to see if the road is clear before pulling back out onto it. He makes it to school with a few minutes to spare before he’s due at lacrosse practice. Only Coach Finstock would make them practice during Spring Break. He takes a deep breath and gets out of his Jeep, locking it.

He keeps his head down in practice. He feels shaky, light-headed, and worn out. He also sort of loses a chunk of time. He’s doing an end to end line drill and then suddenly finds himself in the middle of a dodging drill. It’s really unsettling. He wonders if this is how Lydia’s been feeling. Because it feels like he’s this close to losing it.

Stiles gets knocked down and there’s a sharp rock on the field that slices through his practice jersey and the skin on his side. It’s doesn’t really hurt because he’s feels sort of numb, but it does bleed. It doesn’t show up that well on the uniform, but he looks down at the spreading dark spot with a odd sort of fascination. Then Coach Finstock is over him, making a fuss. And then somehow he’s on the bench and there’s a first aid kit. Then Isaac is there, elbowing the coach out of the way. Finstock shrugs and lets Isaac take over. Isaac looks up at the bleachers and gestures someone over with a yank of his head. Erica appears beside Stiles a few seconds later. They patch him up. Stiles just watches them. He feels so detached, like he’s not really anchored to his body. Erica’s mouth is pulled down in a frown and Isaac looks troubled. Stiles should probably say something, make a joke, a snarky remark, something to reassure them. God knows they (and everyone else) could use some reassurance. Stiles just doesn’t have it in him today. Finstock comes back and tells him he doesn’t need to attend any more practices this week, but he expects Stiles back in tip-top form next week. Stiles just nods.

It takes a few minutes to convince Isaac and Erica that he’s good to drive home alone. They finally let him go once he promises to come to their hideout (den) tomorrow. He thinks maybe they’re a little worried about the upcoming full moon, not just because of the kanima, but because of the whole control thing. But maybe they’re also still affected by what happened at the rave with the kanima and Boyd and Scott - they’d all been upset and… not clingy, exactly, but in need of solace and had sort of banded together that night.

Stiles gets home and sits in the Jeep for a while before getting out. He grabs his bag and locks the Jeep. He trudges up to the house, feeling sore and about a thousand years old. He gets inside and he’s distantly surprised to see his dad at home during the day (he shouldn’t be, he’s the one that got him fired). His dad looks him up and down and raises an eyebrow, probably because he’s still wearing his uniform.

“Uh, rough practice,” Stiles says.

“Yeah. You look tired, Stiles.”

Stiles just nods and starts for the stairs.

“Stiles.”

Stiles turns around.

“It’ll be okay, you know,” his dad says.

And there’s a part of Stiles that really wants to laugh because, really, he doesn’t think anything is ever going to be okay again. But he’s afraid of what that laughter would sound like, what it might turn into. He gives his dad a half-smile because he just can’t stand to tell him another lie, not right know.

His dad smiles back.

Stiles goes upstairs, dumps his bag in his room, goes to the bathroom and undresses, and takes a shower. After he’s done, he peels the soaked bandage off his side and looks at the damage. The cut is deeper than he expected, but not too bad. He pokes at it, but he’s gone back to feeling numb. He puts on some antibiotic ointment and then one of the big-ass bandages from his first aid drawer. He wraps a towel around his waist and gathers the pieces of his dirty uniform. He heads back to his room, tossing the clothing in the hamper (he’ll have to remember to sew up the tear in the jersey). He grabs some track pants and a t-shirt and puts them on. Then he sort of blanks out.

He comes back to himself when Scott taps on the door and then walks in. Stiles doesn’t know how long he’s just been standing there, but the ache in his legs and feet says it’s been a long while. Scott is all over the place and Stiles would think that it’s about Mrs. Argent almost killing him, but he thinks it’s more whatever happened between Scott and Allison that’s got Scott so wound up. Scott never actually says what happened, but he seems to want Stiles’ advice or validation or something. So Stiles does his best, pushes aside all of his own problems, and tries to give Scott what he needs. It works, or at least Scott calms down some before he leaves.

~~~

Stiles is picking disinterestedly at his dinner until he notices his dad watching him closely. He forces himself to eat a few bites.

“I’m not mad,” his dad says suddenly, startling him.

“What?”

“I’m not mad at you. I was angry about the situation. And at the stupid choices you and Scott made. But I remember being your age. I remember doing things without thinking that could have turned out really badly. I just didn’t get caught.”

Stiles feels a spark of curiosity at that. “What kinds of things?”

His dad gets up and starts clearing the table. “So not telling you. Why don’t you make an early night of it? You look like you could use the sleep.”

Stiles puts his fork down. “Yeah, okay.”

His dad grabs his plate and kisses him on top of his head. “Goodnight, kiddo.”

Stiles gets up. “Night, Dad.” He heads for his room.

~~~

Stiles wakes up out of dreams of falling three times during the night. When morning finally comes, he’s still tired and he lies in bed for a long time feeling overwhelmed, even though he hasn’t even started the day. He eventually gets up as morning edges into noon and gets dressed. He feels like he’s in a fog, just waiting for the next bad thing to happen. He goes downstairs and into the kitchen, deciding he should eat something, even if he doesn’t really feel hungry. There’s a note from his father saying that he’s out looking into a couple of things and he’ll be back in time for dinner.

Stiles opens the refrigerator and stares at the contents and then closes it again. He opens the cabinet and grabs a cereal box and puts it on the counter. He gets a bowl and looks at it for a few seconds before he remembers that he got it out for cereal. He goes to put the bowl on the counter, but his fingers slip and it drops to the floor, breaking. He blinks and looks at the pieces on the floor and then he reaches for another bowl. He gets a hold of one and yanks it down, throwing it to the floor next to the first one. The second one doesn’t just break, it shatters. Stiles grabs the rest of the stack of bowls and hurls them all down. There’s something terribly satisfying about the crashing noises and the mess they make. He grabs some tumblers and flings them down one at a time. The glass explodes in a thousand tiny pieces, flying everywhere. He swipes a glass dish off the counter to join the mess. He’s reaching for more stuff when arms suddenly wrap around him from behind, holding Stiles’ arms down.

“Stiles,” a voice says, as if from a long way away.

Stiles shakes his head.

“Stiles,” the voice says again, this time sounding very close. Stiles finally recognizes it as Isaac’s voice.

There’s a soft crunch from his left and Stiles looks over to see Erica, looking upset and uncertain. Stiles looks back down and gives a strangled laugh. “I made kind of a mess, huh?” he asks, and his voice comes out in a rasp and he wonders if maybe he was screaming.

“Uh-huh,” Erica says.

And just like that, Stiles is sagging into the arms around him, crying, sobbing, taking great big heaving breaths that don’t seem to take in enough air. And then he’s on the couch and Erica is curled around him and he feels like if she wasn’t there he’d be shaking to pieces. He has no idea where Isaac went. After a while, he stops crying, but he can’t seem to stop shaking. He’s so, so cold. He’s holding onto Erica for dear life, she’s warm and she doesn’t seem to want to let go of him, either. He’s so tired, he thinks he could sleep for a hundred years and still want more sleep. He droops and slides into slumber without meaning to.

~~~

Stiles wakes up feeling warm. He’s in his bed on his back and he’s got Erica cuddled up to him on one side and Isaac cuddled up to him on the other. They’re both awake and watching him. He pushes out a breath and thinks about what to say because he’d kind of epically flipped out there. Stiles clears his throat and says, “Sorry about that. I just, I, there was, it just got to be too much I guess.”

Erica props herself up on her elbows and looks at him. “Happens,” she says simply. “At least you didn’t put on a suit and a cape and go running around.”

Stiles snorts out a laugh. “I could totally do that. I just need a few billion dollars and some time to make things for a utility belt.”

Erica smiles.

Isaac’s frowning a little, looking between the two of them in confusion.

Erica looks at Isaac. “He’s Batman, I’m Catwoman. You can be, hmm, the Riddler?”

“I look terrible in green,” Isaac deadpans.

“I got it. You can be the Creeper. You know, one of Batman’s Outsiders, superhuman strength and, like, healing factor, even if you aren’t quite as, um, colorful. Plus, well, that name,” Stiles says.

“Whatever,” Isaac says, rolling his eyes.

“I should go clean up the kitchen,” Stiles says reluctantly.

“It’s taken care of,” Isaac says.

Stiles blinks.

“And the next time you promise to meet us, _you meet us_ ,” Erica says.

“Oh, I guess I kind of forgot,” Stiles says.

“Don’t do it again,” Erica says with narrowed eyes.

“I’ll, um try not to,” Stiles says.

“There is no try,” Isaac says.

Stiles smiles. “Do or do not. Yeah, okay.”

Erica lies back down again, cuddling up to Stiles again.

“So, I’m not complaining or anything, but is today snuggle Stiles day?” Stiles asks.

“Yes,” say both Erica and Isaac simultaneously.

“Okay, I can live with that,” Stiles says.

They lie there like that for long moments, silent until Isaac asks, “How’s your side?”

“Huh? Oh, uh, it’s okay. I haven’t really been feeling it, been having trouble with that,” Stiles says.

“The cut?” Isaac asks.

“Feeling things,” Stiles says a little wryly.

“I want to try something,” Isaac says.

“Okay,” Stiles says.

Stiles ends up on his side, cut side up, with his shirt hiked up. The bandage is peeled away and then Isaac leans down and licks at the cut. There’s this weird tingly jolt of heat through Stiles’ body. Isaac leans back, scrunches up his nose, and smacks his lips like he doesn’t like the taste, but leans down again and licks. A shiver runs through Stiles. Then when Isaac leans away again, Erica leans down and licks. Stiles clenches his hand in his pillow. It’s the weirdest sensation, it’s like his body doesn’t really know how to process it. They take turns licking and then stop after a minute. Stiles is kind of turned on, but not really sure what do with it. He looks at the cut and it looks better, likes it’s been healing for a lot longer than a day. He looks at Isaac and Erica in surprise. They both shrug a little. Then they look suddenly alert.

“Your father’s coming,” Isaac says with a small grimace.

Erica and Isaac get off the bed and look down at Stiles. Stiles pulls his shirt down a little self-consciously and sits up. Isaac opens the window.

“Come find us after the full moon. Or we’ll come find you,” Erica says with a predatory smile.

“Yeah, we can try a few other things,” Isaac says, his tone a little questioning.

Stiles nods. He’s maybe a little more enthusiastic about it than he’d meant for them to know, but it’s not like he’s great at subtlety.

Isaac gives him a smile that matches Erica’s and then they’re both out the window and gone.

And Stiles knows there are probably more bad things coming and he knows that he needs to find a better way to deal with his feelings than pushing everything down until he sort of implodes again, but, for now, he feels okay. No, better that that, he feels good _and_ he has something to look forward to.


	34. Need to Believe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Prompt](http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/3353.html?thread=2412825#t2412825): Derek/Stiles. Stiles belongs to/is promised to the Hale Alpha (whoever it may be). Basically I'm talking about an arranged marriage sort of thing. I don't care how it comes about, just that Stiles was promised to Laura before she died. Peter was going to take up the mantle and then it goes to Derek. Stiles is not happy about being 'Hale property' so to speak. Derek isn't exactly crazy about having his future planned out either but it's an obligation. (any time period/setting-canonish or heavily a/u). Can be--Mama Hale and Mama Stilinski were best friends, wanted their kids to hook up and after Mama S' death, the weres took it as a serious obligation. Life/Blood debt owed by the Hales to the Stilinkis and they pay it by bringing Stiles into their pack. Human/Were alliance cemented by marrying the head of the pack to the son of the law keeper. Or whatever you can think of. I'm okay with dubcon but no non-con/rape please. Falling in love and HEA please, please, please.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Magical AU. This got very weird, but in a good way, I hope.

Stiles’ mother had blamed herself. Stiles never had. After all, he’d been told not to go into the woods alone. And, really, his mother had only been distracted for a few seconds and Stiles had always been able to find trouble. He’s the one who’d followed the dragonfly. He would blame himself, but he’d been _four_ at the time. Honestly, though, half the fae are gunning for anyone, whether or not they interfere with whatever schemes they have going on, so it was just a matter of time. Besides he doesn’t really regret keeping the Hale alpha from a horrible fate by distracting that malicious phooka. 

It could have been much worse. Like with Scott and Allison, meeting and falling in love and then having a maleficent fairy curse her and her whole family into sleep. True, Scott had fought his way through a thicket of thorns and then fought a dragon (a _dragon_ ) and was able to wake everyone. But somehow, even though he’d broken the curse, her parents still don’t like him. Or Lydia and Jackson, with Jackson being cursed into being that… thing and Lydia having to figure it out and then kiss him in that form, which he still changes back into when particularly stressed. Or Danny, who had been spellbound to have to hand over his first child to an imp (although that probably would have been some time coming, since he and his king had only recently gotten engaged). Danny hadn’t even asked the imp for any help, but, fortunately, he was able to break the spell by learning the imp’s name. Stiles can’t remember what it was, but he knows the imp liked to be called Cupcake.

Stiles had also heard about a girl poisoned by an evil queen with an apple. And then there’s the poor knight who was in love with his king’s queen with the whole situation being manipulated (or even orchestrated) by a witch and a druid. Not that all fae are bad. Stiles heard about a boy, forced by his father to be a servant in his own home, abused and left to sleep in the ashes of the fireplace, who was given a night to shine by a good fairy – and shine he did, catching the eye of a royal, who had helped him escape his plight.

Anyway, even though Stiles has to be mated to the next Hale alpha by the vernal equinox after his sixteenth birthday or they’ll both waste away, it could be worse. Laura is nice, even if she does treat him more like a little brother than a mate. And the rest of the Hale family is pretty welcoming, grateful for his intervention with the phooka (even Derek, who mostly just watches Stiles with a frown). Of course, Stiles should know better than to think that it could be worse, to tempt fate like that.

~~~

It’s six weeks until the equinox, five until the mating ceremony when something happens to Laura. Stiles _feels_ it, feels a shift, but he doesn’t find out until hours later exactly what happened. Somehow, Laura is not a werewolf anymore. It’s so not right that Stiles is sure that the magical backlash will be epic. The small bit of magic that Stiles possesses, the power of belief assures him of that. Magic has it’s own rules. But with Laura no longer a werewolf, Peter Hale is to be the next Hale alpha. Stiles has no idea what to do with that. And really, neither does anyone else because Peter is already mated. There is a lot of scrambling, a lot of consulting, a lot of questions. The Hales even wake a couple of ancient beings for answers, which ends up with a couple of Hales with scorched hair and missing eyebrows (apparently, phoenixes get pissy when woken before they want to be awake).

Mating is forever. One can have more than one mate, but the mating ceremony, the binding of souls, is supposed to all be done at one time. No one can say for sure what will happen if an already mated pair goes through the binding again. But most think that it could be very bad indeed for all parties involved.

Stiles seeks out Laura. He just goes wandering and lets himself believe that eventually he’ll find her. And he does. But it does take hours. She’s sitting in a big, grassy meadow, staring off into the distance. He goes over and sits by her. It’s weird, there’s nothing that he can specifically point to about her that’s not like it was before, but she is different.

“I’m sorry. About you, uh, not being a werewolf anymore,” Stiles says awkwardly, not sure what else to say.

She gives him a startled look, like she hadn’t noticed him sitting there. “Don’t be. I think maybe it’s my own fault.”

“How?”

“I was talking to a nymph and I said something about the whole situation with you being unfair. I didn’t make a wish, but she might have done this to me to try and help.”

Stiles tries not to laugh, but he can’t help it. After a second, Laura joins in. It takes a long time for the laughter to fade away, but eventually it does. “Sometimes, magic sucks,” Stiles says on a sigh.

Laura’s expression goes sad and distant. “Yes, sometimes it really does.”

Suddenly, there’s a strange feeling in Stiles’ chest, kind of like when Laura changed, but there’s a different texture to it.

“What’s wrong, Stiles?” Laura asks, studying him.

“I think something’s happening with Peter.”

~~~

Peter has broken from the pack. He’s no longer the next Hale alpha. Derek, who is now the next Hale alpha, looks at Stiles with a blank face as Stiles takes it in. Stiles makes an inarticulate noise and leaves. Stiles hates this. Hates that he’s in a demented game of Hot Potato. Hates that he’s basically Hale property because of a spell. He has railed against his fate before. He has come very close to calling the phooka who did this every foul thing he could think of (he restrained himself because you never know who might be listening and angering an already vicious fae is just asking for trouble). He has even gone to the wishing tree and had it on the tip of his tongue to wish his fate away, but everyone knows that wishes can cost you dearly. He knows that not everyone is the master of their own destiny, but he’d never had a choice. He could never choose to waste away and leave his father alone, especially after the way they’d lost Stiles’ mother. And even if he could, he’d never condemn someone else to that fate.

Stiles had run away once. A few years ago, once he’d truly understood what had been done to him. He’d run, like it would have helped. He’d hoped to make it to The Void, where the spell could not take effect. He almost had. Except, he remembers, Derek had stopped him. Made him think about what he’d been about to do. There’s no magic in The Void and the few that had come back from it were changed, broken somehow. Derek had stopped him and brought him back. And Derek, who’d never really seemed to like him, had never told anyone what Stiles had almost done and, in fact, had actually seemed to understand why.

Stiles ends up sitting beside a babbling brook and babbles back at it for some time. The brook has some interesting observations, at least. Stiles is telling the water about an enchanted pond he’d once happened upon when Derek appears.

Stiles finishes his story and then squints up at Derek. “So, are you going to run off, too? Am I going to end up with a second cousin or a great aunt?”

“It’s not that easy to break from a pack, especially if one is young and unmated,” Derek says impassively.

“But you’re going to try, right?”

“Why would I?” Derek asks with a deep frown.

“Because you don’t like me, like, _at all_.”

Derek just frowns at him.

Stiles points to him. “See? You always look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

Stiles gestures at Derek’s face. “With the-“ Stiles tries to make his own face look like Derek’s.

“That’s just the way my face looks,” Derek says, sounding a little affronted.

Stiles looks at him. “Really? But you never smile around me.”

“I don’t smile. Haven’t for a long time.”

“Oh, crap, sorry. Is it a curse?”

“Might as well be.”

Stiles gives him a confused look.

“There was a girl, I thought we were in… She was a lamia, tried to kill my whole family,” Derek says stoically.

“Seriously? When? I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything about it.”

“I was about your age. My mother was able to keep it quiet.”

Stiles blinks and says to the brook, “Please don’t tell anyone about that.”

Derek looks startled when the brook burbles it’s agreement.

“You thought I was just out here telling _myself_ a story?” Stiles asks, incredulous.

“You’re kind of an odd kid,” Derek says with a shrug.

Stiles glares at him.

Derek grimaces. “Sorry.”

“Yeah, yeah. So, what are you doing here?”

“Wanted to make sure you didn’t- Wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I won’t run away again. I won’t go to The Void.”

Derek studies him closely, then nods. “Good.”

~~~

Stiles spends the next couple of weeks expecting a plague or some giants to show up or something. He maybe also spends them trying to think of ways to get Derek to smile because, well, really, the whole not smiling thing, it’s just sad. Except Stiles has no idea how to behave around Derek now that he knows that Derek doesn’t not like him (likes him?). And as much as he’s worried that something terrible is going to happen and the mating won’t happen, he’s equally worried that it actually will happen. He’d gotten used to the idea of being mated to Laura and he hadn’t really had time for the idea of Peter to sink in, but Derek, well, that’s something else entirely. All of which means that Stiles ends up acting like a fool in Derek’s presence. But he does get a twitch of the lips once and even a huff that could generously be described as almost laughter from Derek, so he doesn’t feel as stupid as he could have. 

Of course, now that Stiles knows that Derek (maybe, sort of) likes him, he starts to notice little things that he didn’t before. Like how Derek talks to him, not a lot, but more than he talks to most people. Or how Derek will actually listen to most of what Stiles says, even if he does tell Stiles to stop talking sometimes. Or how close Derek stays to Stiles. Stiles had always kind of thought of Derek as Laura’s grouchy shadow and now Stiles is seeing him as an actual, real person. Which is probably a good thing, you know, since they’re to be mated.

So Stiles stumbles on (because if there’s a way to do something clumsily, Stiles will find it), the equinox drawing closer. And, even though Stiles is really nervous, he thinks maybe things might be okay. Then he gets kidnapped pixies. It turns out that they’re actually trying to help him. They tell him they can protect him from the phooka’s spell, but they give him confused looks when he asks about what will happen to Derek (pixies and werewolves do not get along). He tries to explain how he doesn’t want any harm to come to Derek and he thinks they actually understand, at least enough to not try to pixie-lead Derek away when he comes for Stiles. Stiles makes sure to graciously thank the pixies before Derek guides him back, because it never hurts to stay on their good side.

~~~

The day of the mating ceremony finally comes and Stiles feels like jittering right out of his skin. They make it through the ceremony, the ritual words flowing over them. Stiles feels it, in his chest and behind his eyes when their souls connect. It’s startling and scary and soothing and a hundred other things Stiles will never be able to articulate. The weird thing is that all Stiles is able to think is, ‘Now, what?’ He’s spent so much time thinking about this, being defined by this, that he has no real clue as to what he’s going to do now. And then Stiles can’t think at all because a chimera shows up out of the blue. Stiles had thought they were extinct and from the stunned looks on everyone else’s faces, he’s not alone. It prowls toward him and then Derek is there in front of him, wolfing-out. Derek tries to fight the chimera, but it’s huge and really powerful.

It takes the combined efforts of all the werewolves, the sorcerer priest, the gnomes, a dwarf, and all of the active magic that everyone else can contribute to take the chimera down. And Derek is lying there, bleeding and not healing, not _moving_ , and Stiles stops breathing. Stiles rushes over to him, puts a shaky hand out, and places it on his chest. Stiles gathers all of his magic and _believes_. Stiles has only ever successfully used it on small things. It’s just so hard to have absolute belief in the big things, so much harder not to doubt himself. He’s tried before and failed. But this time he can’t, he won’t let himself. And so he _believes_ that Derek will be okay and he is. Derek’s eyes blink open and he looks up at Stiles in bewilderment, but he’s okay and Stiles can breathe again.

~~~

Stiles doesn’t let Derek out of his sight much for the next few days. It’s made easier by the fact that Derek lives, or, now, Derek and Stiles live in a cottage that is basically just one big room, except for the bathroom – bedroom, living room, kitchen, dining room all open, no walls. It’s one of the gingerbread-like cottages that are just a short walk from the Hale house. Laura has her own cottage, too. And so did Peter and his mate. So many had been put up back when people had found out about that gingerbread house. Sure, it’s owner had been a witch that ate kids, but the house had been really nice. Stiles doesn’t know if it’s an enchantment or just his imagination, but he always smells a hint of ginger when he’s close to one of the cottages. It’s comforting (he would honestly hate to live somewhere like the Argent palace – it’s beautiful, yeah, but so cold and imposing). 

Stiles is also comforted by his connection to Derek. Sometimes he can feel what Derek does. It’s intense and nothing like he’d expected. Interspecies soul-bonds aren’t supposed to be anywhere near as strong as those between the same species. Stiles wonders if Derek feels it in the same way as Stiles does. He catches Derek just watching him sometimes (and, every once in a while, he can just feel it when Derek focuses his mind on Stiles). Stiles can feel it best at night when they’re in bed together (just sleeping, not anything else, they’ll get to that someday, later, maybe possibly, Stiles hopes so anyway), just before he falls asleep.

One night, lying there in bed, Stiles screws up his courage and asks, “Can you feel what I do?”

Derek rolls over to look at Stiles. “What?”

“The connection. Sometimes I can feel what you do. Can you?”

“You can feel what I do?”

“Sometimes. Like, I can feel it when you enjoy something, but you won’t let yourself be happy. And I can feel when you’re surprised. And sometimes when you’re sad.”

“I- It’s not like that for me. I can smell and taste your emotions better than I could before. I can… I can hear your heartbeat.”

“Couldn’t you hear my heartbeat before?” Stiles asks, confused.

“I can hear it from the other side of town, now.”

“Oh.”

“I think maybe your magic, what you did, I think it connected us more… deeply.”

“I, oh. Is that, is it a bad thing, do you think?”

“I li- No, I don’t think it’s a bad thing.”

“Do you think that it will get deeper?”

Derek’s face goes kind of soft and he asks quietly, “What do you believe, Stiles?”

Stiles breath catches. It almost sounds like Derek’s asking him to use his magic, like he wants Stiles to _believe_. “I, um,” Stiles stops, takes a deep breath, centers himself, and says, “I believe it will.” And he feels it.

And then the most wonderful thing happens – Derek smiles.


	35. Abominable Snowman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Prompt](http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/4407.html?thread=2849079#t2849079): Derek/Stiles-Handholding. Can I just have a fic about Derek & Stiles holding hands, but still keeping them in character.

Derek has a tendency to get fixated. He knows it and knows how to work around it for the most part. No, that’s not true. He _tries_ and fails. Rather spectacularly. There was Kate. Her voice had caught him up. He couldn’t get enough of it, so he’d talked to her to get her to talk back to him. Told her so many things that, in hindsight, he really shouldn’t have. He’d fixated on being alpha and then fixated on the idea of pack, not seeing the reality of what he was doing for so long. Longing so much to be part of something like what he’d had before, he’d made stupid decisions, not bothering to think about the other people that would be affected. He hadn’t even really thought of his pack as individuals, people with wants and needs and problems that weren’t necessarily solved by becoming werewolves. He’d really messed that up.

So, when Derek notices that he’s watching Stiles’ hands more than he’s paying attention to what Stiles is saying about vampires (Derek had rolled eyes when Stiles had started in, but that hadn’t deterred him), he cuts Stiles off and leaves as quickly as he can. But it’s too late, he’s caught. Stiles has very long-fingered hands. Derek would think of them as graceful or elegant if they weren’t attached to Stiles. And Stiles uses his hands to talk. Well, he uses his whole body to talk, but his hands are very much center stage in the circus that is Stiles conveying information.

Derek finds himself cataloging things about Stiles’ hands. How strong they are. How pale and unmarked they are, a contrast to the dark spots that dot Stiles’ face. How short his nails are. How tactile Stiles can be, reaching out to touch, reaching out to hold on to, reaching out. Exactly how long his fingers and palms are. He tries very hard not to think about what they could wrap around or what they would feel like. He fails. Spectacularly.

It gets so bad, Derek even finds himself scenting Stiles to try to get an idea of how his fingers would taste if Derek brought them to his mouth. Derek knows that Boyd has noticed. Boyd doesn’t say anything, to him or to Stiles, just raises an eyebrow. Isaac would have asked, possibly while Stiles was around and Erica would have used every opportunity to latch onto Stiles’ hands. Scott would have frowned a lot and possibly have gotten Stiles to hold grapefruit (Derek hates the smell). Boyd is Derek’s favorite.

~~~

Derek hates his life. He wonders why his parents never told him that he might run into a yeti. He gets the kanima thing – that’s not really supposed to happen, so they’d never said much about it. But he would have liked to have been prepared to face an actual abominable snowman. Stiles had laughed hysterically when they’d figured out what it was. Derek wishes Stiles was laughing now, instead of lying still and quiet on the ground of the cave behind the yeti. Derek, Scott, and Boyd are not having much luck taking it down and every time either Isaac or Erica makes a move towards Stiles, it blocks them.

Derek doesn’t even know what to do about Stiles, so stupidly brave, rushing in with a compound made of a plant that might possibly maybe have been rumored to work against yetis, plus a generous amount of blind hope and optimism. And it didn’t even slow the thing down. Except, the yeti is weaving on it’s feet. And after a few seconds, it’s falling. Thankfully, it falls away from Stiles since it’s big enough to make it feel like an earthquake when it finally crashes to the ground. Derek really doesn’t want to see what that kind of weight falling on a human body could do. Isaac carefully picks up Stiles and edges around the yeti, carrying him out of the cave, Erica following. Scott looks like he wants to go too, but instead, he dutifully tries to determine if the yeti is actually down for the count (they’ve mostly learned that lesson). The body suddenly sinks into itself, just fur and bones now, smelling of death and decay. Well, at least that answers that. Derek, Scott, and Boyd leave the cave.

Outside, Stiles is awake and aware. He’s sitting in the back seat of the Camaro, Isaac’s coat over his shoulders and Isaac and Erica on either side of him, tight up against him. He’s shivering and not talking. Derek’s pretty sure the concerned looks that everyone else is throwing around are more because of the silence than the shivering.

Scott and Boyd drive Stiles’ Jeep and Erica and Isaac stay in the back of the Camaro with Stiles while Derek drives, cranking up the heat. Erica asks Stiles a couple of questions that sound pretty bizarre to Derek until he realizes she’s checking if Stiles has a concussion. Stiles answers her questions quietly and correctly until she asks his name and he says that it’s George. Derek almost snorts, but Erica and Isaac exchange worried glances. Stiles grimaces and tells them it’s a joke and says he’s fine, just really cold with a wicked headache.

When they pull up to the depot, Scott and Boyd are already there and Stiles is hustled inside and bundled up in blankets on one of the mattresses. Then Scott, Isaac, Boyd, and Erica climb on, lending him their body heat. Derek joins them after making sure everything is secure. He drifts off to sleep with the knowledge that, for now, his pack is safe.

~~~

Derek wakes up a few hours later. He watches as Stiles carefully extricates himself from the pack and then liberates his keys from Scott’s pocket without waking the rest of the pack. Derek follows him silently outside. Stiles heads for his Jeep, flexing his hands, which distracts Derek long enough for Stiles to make it to the driver’s side.

“And just where do you think you’re going, little bunny rabbit?” Derek asks.

Stiles startles and spins around, hand going to his chest. “Jesus. I knew you got that - you going to hug me and squeeze me and call me George now?” Stiles asks, his tone a little triumphant, a little challenging.

“Did you want me to?” Derek asks, making his tone as blank as possible.

Stiles makes a weird face, like he’s not sure how to answer that. He puts his keys in his pocket and then brings that hand up to join the other. He rubs his hands together and lifts them to breathe on them. “I, uh-“

“Still cold?” Derek interrupts, staring at Stiles’ hands.

“A little. It’s not bad. Mostly just my hands now. When I touched that thing, it was like it was just sucking all the heat out of my body.”

Derek doesn’t think before he does it, but just reaches out and takes Stiles’ hands in his own. Stiles mouth drops open and he blinks at Derek. Derek looks down at their hands as he runs his thumbs over the skin on the backs of Stiles’ hands, trying to warm the chilled flesh.

“Is this you taking care of your pack? Or is this because of your thing for my hands?” Stiles croaks out.

Derek snaps his head up in surprise.

“Oh, are we not talking about that?”

“You knew?”

“I spent twenty minutes talking about the history of male circumcision and you didn’t stop me once, just watched my hands. Now, it’s an interesting subject, I did an essay on it once, but it just doesn’t strike me as something you’d care to listen to, so I concluded that there was something else holding your attention. And then after that, well, you weren’t that obvious about it, but I was looking for it.”

Derek drops Stiles’ hands and looks down, feeling exposed and embarrassed.

“Oh, hey, no. I wasn’t, like, calling you out or anything. I was just curious. You can’t help, um, what gets you going, you know? Like, uh, leather does it for some people, which, yeah, you’d know, and so hands do it for you, so what?”

“Hands don’t do it for me,” Derek snaps out and then cringes internally. Why didn’t he just let that go? He could have just let Stiles believe it was a fetish. And Stiles is smart, so there’s a good chance he’ll figure out what Derek meant.

“What? I mean, that doesn’t make- Oh, wait, hands _in general_ don’t do it for you? Just, my hands?”

Derek doesn’t say anything, there’s nothing _to_ say. A silence falls between them. Then Stiles’ hands are being held out in invitation. Derek stares at them a second before he pulls his gaze back up to Stiles face.

“I, um-“ Stiles shrugs awkwardly. “If you want to.”

Derek should act like it’s temporary, a passing fancy. He should find a way to let it go, find a way to gently turn Stiles away so no one gets hurt. Instead, he takes Stiles’ hands in his and hopes that this time, this one time, it doesn’t all fall apart. He takes Stiles still chilled hands and puts them flat against his chest, covering them with his own and holding them there.

Stiles looks at him with wide eyes, his heartbeat speeding up, and gives Derek a tentative smile.

~~~

Derek is not good at relationships, the way he is not good at so many things involving other people and their feelings. Stiles isn’t great at it either, too new at it not to make mistakes. And that should just make the whole thing a complete disaster, but somehow it makes it better. Stiles doesn’t like apologizing so he doesn’t make Derek do it either – they find their own ways to make things up to each other. They learn how to be careful of places each of them have that have been rubbed raw by life, mostly having to do with family, but also some insecurities and odd hang-ups. They figure out how to compromise, sort of - it usually ends up more like a last man standing type deal (okay, so the compromise thing is maybe still a work-in-progress).

Neither of them are much for public displays, but Derek almost always reaches for Stiles’ hand to hold when they’re driving. And when Derek gets antsy about something, Stiles offers a hand for him to play with. Also, it turns out, those fingers feel very good against his skin and _taste_ pretty good, too. And if the judicious application of tongue and/or suction to said fingers gets him a blissed-out and agreeable Stiles, that’s just a bonus, since it also tends to make Derek blissed-out and agreeable. Somehow, this thing between them, this relationship, just works, even though it shouldn’t, even though nothing like this has ever worked for Derek before. And Derek is going to hold on for all he’s worth.


	36. More Important Than Knowledge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Prompt](http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/6367.html?thread=4132063#t4132063): Tabula Rasa. Based on that one episode of Buffy where the group all collectively forgot their identities, and the entire supernatural world. So the cast (can include as many people as you like, pack, parents, enemies, whoever) are all stuck in the same place when a magical Plot Device hits and they all lose their memories. Queue confusion and awkward collaboration as they try to figure out what is going on and survive the horrifying monster that seems to be after them.  
>  Bonuses:  
> \- At least one of the wolves freaking out when they reflexively grow claws and fangs.  
> \- People pairing up, assuming they are in relationships (romantic, familial, etc.) and extreme awkwardness between them once the spell wears off.  
> \- One or two of the parents being involved  
> \- UST being resolved  
> \- Everyone looking to Stiles as the de facto leader, since he seems naturally capable of dealing with weird shit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set during 2x09 (Party Guessed), in the days between the rave and the full moon.

Stilinski lets his gaze wander around the room again, taking in the disparate group of people. A group made up of several teenagers, an older boy, three other people of his own generation, and an older man. They’re stuck in what appears to be the swimming facilities of a high school. And there’s a mirror, so at least everyone has an idea what they look like. Stilinski only knows his last name because of the name tag on his uniform. It must be frustrating to not even have that little bit of personal information, even if the talkative boy with the buzz-cut had had the idea for them to check for identification, which, strangely, none of them seem to have - no purses, wallets, or backpacks. Plus Stilinski is getting really tired of calling them all by their descriptions. The talkative boy seems to agree with him.

The talkative boy says, “Okay, I’m sorry, I can’t just say ‘Hey, you’ or ‘You, yeah, the tan one’ every time I want someone’s attention, so I am going to give you names.” He points to the older man and says, “You will be Tigh, because you kind of look like that dude from Battlestar Galactica.”

‘Tigh’ raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t disagree. 

The boy points to the older boy and says, “You are Eyebrows, for obvious reasons.” The older boy with, yes, commanding eyebrows frowns. Then ‘Eyebrows’ huffs and gives a short nod.

The talkative boy moves on. He points to the red-headed girl and says, “You can be Little Red,” and then points to the red-headed woman and says, “And you can be Big Red.” 

‘Big Red’ give him a disdainful look and ‘Little Red’ just rolls her eyes, but neither of them protest. 

He points to the tall black boy and says, “You can be Tiny, because it’s ironic, see?”

“Only if I can call you Shy,” comes the deadpan reply from ‘Tiny’.

‘Shy’ shrugs and says, “That’s fair.” He points at Stilinski, who had honestly thought he was exempt. “You are Sheriff.” And okay, that works. 

Shy points at the blond boy and Sheriff expects something like Cheekbones. Instead Shy goes with, “Abercrombie.” 

‘Abercrombie’ sneers a little, but inclines his head in acceptance.

Shy points at the boy with brown hair and an uneven jawline and says, “You can be Scooby because you’ve got big ol’ puppy-dog eyes.” 

‘Scooby’ wrinkles his nose, but shrugs and gives a good-natured smile.

Shy points to the blond girl and says, “You are Maybelline.”

The girl looks at him in confusion.

Shy gestures to her face. “Because of the make-up.”

“No,” the blond girl says.

Shy blinks. “Um, Cover Girl?”

She narrows her eyes and says, “Mac will work.”

“Mac it is.” Shy points at the man with light hair and intense eyes and says, “Laser, um, because.”

‘Laser’ looks vaguely amused and nods.

The girl with long, dark, curly hair gives Shy a dimpled smile filled with what seems like anticipation when he turns to her. Shy smiles back at her and says, “Hmm, maybe Princess, because you look like there should be cute animals, like, flitting around you.”

“I always liked The Little Mermaid,” she says.

“Then Ariel you shall be,” Shy says with a silly little bow.

‘Ariel’ giggles and gives him a curtsey.

Shy points to the last teenager, a boy with blue eyes and light-colored curls and says, “Hermes?”

The boy looks at Shy skeptically.

“Like the Greek god? You just sort of remind me of a picture I saw. Right, yeah, I’ll pick something else.”

“I’ll take Hermes,” ‘Hermes’ says.

“Cool,” Shy says.

And they’re left with a woman with dark, curly hair. “So, what have you got for me, O Great Christener?” she asks dryly.

Shy looks at her and says, “Snarky?”

She gives him an unimpressed stare. “No classical reference?”

“Uh, how about Panacea, uh, because of the scrubs?” Shy stutters out.

“Fine,” ‘Panacea’ says.

And now they all have names. That’s something. And it’s interesting how this group, that doesn’t remember any personal information and does know Disney movies, arranges itself. Sheriff figures that there are parents and kids here plus maybe a grandparent in Tigh and possibly an older brother in Eyebrows. But there are too many kids or maybe too few parents. He has a ring on his finger, but he’s not comfortable with trying to figure out if his wife (husband?) is here. Big Red and Laser seem to have decided that they’re together, probably because they were holding hands when everyone became aware. Sheriff wonders if maybe Eyebrows is theirs – they all have very intense stares. Abercrombie keeps drifting towards Sheriff, looking between Sheriff and himself in the mirror. He wonders if this could be his son, they do have similar coloring, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. Of course, Little Red is hovering near Big Red and Laser and Ariel is sticking close to Panacea, so who knows. Or maybe they’re just picking up on the coloring thing, too. 

Mac is hanging back from everyone. Tiny is studying everyone. Scooby looks like he can’t decide who to focus on. Eyebrows looks uncomfortable and wary. Tigh seems to be off in his own world. Hermes is leaning against a wall with his eyes closed. And Shy is looking at something near one of the doors.

Sheriff steps up closer to Shy and asks, “What are you looking at?”

“There’s something on the floor. I don’t know, a powder or something.”

Sheriff looks and can see a very faint smattering of something sort of iridescent. He wonders if it’s why they can’t seem to leave. Sheriff looks back up at Shy, but Shy is staring at Hermes, who appears to have claws that he’s looking down at in horrified fascination.

“Woah, that’s so… cool. How are you doing that?” Shy asks, excited.

Hermes looks up and his eyes are shining yellow. “I don’t know,” he almost wails.

And now everyone’s looking at Hermes. Most everyone looks startled and maybe a little afraid. Eyebrows seems confused, though. 

Hermes hunches in on himself, sinking to the floor.

“Maybe you’re a demon. Or, no, a mutant. How awesome would that be?” Shy asks enthusiastically.

Hermes blinks at him and his eyes are back to blue and his fingers are back to normal.

“Did I just imagine that?” Shy asks no one in particular.

Sheriff wonders if there’s maybe a sort of mass hysteria or something going on because this is starting to have the feel of a fever dream. Real, but not. And he can tell from the expressions on some of the faces that they’re thinking along the same lines.

“I think we need to figure out what happened,” Laser says.

“Go for it. I don’t remember my name, my age, or what I might be allergic to, but I can tell you about all about an online gaming community that battles mythical creatures. I know what ice cream is, but I can’t tell you if I have a favorite flavor. That is deeply weird and if you have an explanation, I’m all ears,” Shy says.

“Well, then, what do you think we should do?” Laser asks, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t know, yell for help, throw something at one of the doors we can’t seem to get near, try to find a window or a vent, find a fire alarm and pull it, or…”

“Or?” Sheriff asks when Shy trails off, looking distracted.

“Um, water,” Shy says. “We could try to wash away that powder.”

“But you don’t know how it will react,” Little Red pipes up. “Some things react badly with water.”

Shy grimaces a little. “Just a thought.”

Then there’s a loud noise, like something really big has crashed against the main door from the outside.

“Okay, maybe we’re not being kept in, so much as something else is being kept out,” Shy says, backing away from the door.

Everyone pulls into the middle of the room, as far away from all the doors as possible. There’s some more banging, first on one door, then another, but nothing gets in. They all stay where they are, though. The group rearranges itself again. Little Red and Hermes sit close together and study his fingers, which just look like ordinary fingers. Tigh is still off by himself. Scooby and Tiny talk about lacrosse. Mac and Abercrombie take turns insulting each other, but there’s no edge to it. Big Red and Eyebrows seem to be trading observations. Laser and Panacea mostly watch everyone, but occasionally throw out a sardonic comment. Shy and Ariel make teasing remarks to each other as they play a game they seem to have made up using whatever they had on them – a button, a bobby pin, a scrap of paper, a tube of lip gloss, a quarter, an arrowhead, and a small piece of metal. Sheriff feels like he should be more worried about this whole thing – the memory loss, claws, the thing outside, not being able to get out. There’s a sort of lassitude to his thoughts, though. He notices people start to drift off to sleep and can’t help following them.

~~~

“Stiles.”

Stiles wakes up abruptly. “Oh my God. Oh, _I’m_ Stiles.”

“Yes, you are,” says Dr. Deaton, crouching next to him, looking slightly amused.

Stiles looks around a little. He can’t sit up because someone, _Allison_ is sleeping with her head on his chest. He looks back at Dr. Deaton wildly, but before he can blurt anything out, Dr. Deaton holds up a finger and gives him a warning look. Stiles reins himself in. “That really happened, didn’t it?” he whispers. “Wait, what exactly did happen? And what was that thing outside?”

“There was a spell, it had to do with memory and anger, but I don’t think it quite worked the way it was supposed to. There was a barrier of some sort with mother-of-pearl and a few other ingredients. It took… me some time to take it down. As for what might have been outside, I didn’t see any signs of anything, that might have been an effect of the spell,” Dr. Deaton says softly.

“Okay, so that actually was a hallucination?”

“Possibly. And it might be a good idea if some people,” Dr. Deaton pauses and looks significantly at Stiles’ dad before he continues, “think that most everything was a hallucination and not something brought on by magic.”

“Right.” Of course Stiles has to lie to his dad, of course. Stiles eyes go wide. “Jackson!” 

“Unfortunately, Jackson was up and gone immediately after I took down the barrier. I think his master must have called him.”

“Oh.”

“I’ll leave you to it, then. Just make sure you wake everyone with a name that they will recognize.”

Stiles looks up at Dr. Deaton, confused.

“Names have power, Stiles. Calling them by names that they know will break the spell’s hold.”

“Wait, I called my dad ‘Sheriff’, how come that didn’t break the spell?”

“It was a very powerful spell, even if it wasn’t implemented correctly, and until the barrier came down, well, it would have been very hard to break. But, with each time he got called ‘Sheriff’, by people who generally call him that, the spell’s hold would have deteriorated.”

“And if I had called him ‘Dad’?”

“Yes, that would have worked much more quickly.”

“So, it’s not just the name…”

“We’ve talked about this before, intent, emotion, belief, these are all very important things.” 

“Okay. Um, thanks, you know, for taking down the barrier.”

“You’re welcome. Now, I must be going,” Dr. Deaton says and he smiles at Stiles before leaving.

Stiles takes a couple of moments and then he wakes up Allison. They give each other embarrassed smiles. Stiles wakes up Scott. Scott’s confused for a few minutes and then he gives them both narrow-eyed looks. They wake up Derek and his pack. Derek looks over at Allison’s mother with a really strange expression, mostly consternation, but maybe something like sadness, too. Stiles wonders what that’s about. Isaac’s looking sort of freaked out, which, yeah, Stiles understands since Isaac had kind of revealed himself. Boyd seems pretty calm, although he does give Scott a smile and a nod. Erica looks a little pensive. Stiles wonders if she’s thinking about Jackson.

Erica shakes off her preoccupation and looks at Stiles. “Really, Stiles? Maybelline?” she asks sarcastically.

“If the lipstick fits. I guess I could’ve called you ‘Blondie’,” Stiles says with a smirk.

Erica cuffs him upside the head and not very gently, either. “Isaac got to be a Greek god and I didn’t even get to be Selina.”

“Maybe he’s just that pretty,” Stiles says.

The remark has the desired effect of snapping Isaac out of his panic as he looks at Stiles with astonishment. It also has the undesired effect of everyone else looking at Stiles, a couple of them even wearing frowns. 

“Don’t worry, there’s a plan. People will think your little wolf-out was a hallucination,” Stiles tells Isaac.

Isaac looks a little nervous, but nods.

“Now, shoo, go on,” Stiles tells Derek, Erica, Boyd, and Isaac. “Before we wake up Allison’s parents.”

Derek and his pack get up and make their way out. Isaac shoots a last glance at Lydia and then they’re out the door. Allison wakes up her parents. Her mother’s more visibly flustered than Stiles had thought she could get. Allison’s father doesn’t seem quite so perturbed, but he’s not as in control as he usually is. Stiles keeps an eye on Gerard as they wake him. Stiles has his suspicions as to who might have put the spell into play and why.

Allison is able to convince her parents and Gerard to leave. They go much more easily than Stiles had expected and he wonders if there’s something else going on there. He pushes that thought away though, because he has to put on a good performance for his dad and Scott’s mom and Lydia. Weirdly, that goes really easily, too. Lydia rattles off a dozen different substances that could have caused hallucinations as if they were something she’d been thinking about for a while. And his dad and Mrs. McCall seem to buy that they and Lydia were the only ones who’d experienced anything. Mrs. McCall insists that everyone get checked out at the hospital anyway. So, they all head over to the hospital. Stiles isn’t worried, he knows at least a couple of the things on Lydia’s list break down very quickly, although he’s going to leave it up to his dad’s imagination how they came in contact with whichever substance he thinks is the most likely culprit.

Stiles almost breaks when his dad tells him he loves him. Instead, he swallows it down, and tells his dad that he loves him too. Then he tries to figure out what to say to Scott if he brings up Allison and how she and Stiles were behaving towards each other. Of course, maybe Scott won’t because things are sort of weird between Scott and Allison. Maybe they can all agree to let it go. That would be nice. And then they can all have a good time at Lydia’s party.


	37. Many, Many Times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Prompt](http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/4407.html?thread=3339319#t3339319): Derek/Stiles- sensitive nipples. 5 times +1 fic, Where Derek slowly discovers that Stiles has really sensitive nipples through mundane or everyday occurrences and the +1 can be through sex, where Derek totally makes Stiles come from sucking/biting the teens nipples? I don't know where this prompt came from, I'm usually not a nipple kink person but Dylan is so shy about his chest and I just get 'ideas'?!

1\. Budding 

Derek reaches over Stiles to yank at the passenger side seatbelt that seems to be stuck. He brushes against Stiles’ chest and Stiles flinches and hunches over slightly. Derek gets the seatbelt unstuck and then pulls his arm back, allowing Stiles to belt himself in. Stiles is still holding himself a little awkwardly.

“Are you hurt?” Derek asks, though he doesn’t smell anything that would indicate Stiles being injured.

“No.”

And that’s kind of strange. No explanation, no babbling, no deflecting, just a simple answer. Derek narrows his eyes and studies Stiles closely, but before he can figure out anything, both of their phones go off. It’s Isaac and Scott with an update about the other pack. And then they’re on their way to meet up and try to figure out what to do.

2\. Nippy 

There’s a sudden cold snap, frost on the ground even though it’s spring. They’re outside, training. Actually, it’s mostly Stiles and Derek watching Scott and Isaac tussle. Derek will call a halt to it in a minute, bring them back to what they should be doing, but he’s trying very hard not to alienate either Scott or Isaac. Stiles is not dressed for the weather, not even wearing one of his stupid hoodies. He’s got his arms folded tightly over his chest and his expression is almost pained. It’s distracting. Then he this weird full body twitch and hugs himself even tighter, hunching in. Derek looks at him suspiciously, but before he can say anything, Isaac and Scott roll into dead tree trunk that some wasps apparently have their nest in.

3\. Titillating 

Derek pushes Stiles out of the way so that he can sit down and read the information Stiles had found on his computer.

Stiles gives an annoyed huff and mutters sarcastically, “Excuse me Stiles, could you move so that I could read? I wouldn’t want to be rude and use my wolf strength to push you out of your own chair,” and then leans over Derek’s shoulder to read, too.

Derek turns his head to ask a question and sighs when Stiles chest is right there, just an inch from his face. Stiles recoils and stumbles back, flailing his arms as he almost falls. Derek watches in bemusement. Stiles crosses his arms and tries to pretend that nothing happened. Derek would pursue it, but they don’t have a lot of time and he needs answers, so he lets it go and questions Stiles about elder wood.

4\. Pointed

Derek hands Stiles a shirt to replace the disgusting smelling one he’s wearing. Stiles takes the shirt and turns his back to Derek before pulling his off. Derek cannot place the horrible odor and asks, “What is on that shirt?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. There was all kinds of nasty things in that cave,” Stiles says, his voice muffled as he pulls the clean shirt on. “Yikes, Jesus, this shirt is so scratchy.” Stiles turns around and he’s pinching the fabric of the shirt in his fingers to hold it away from his chest.

“That’s not scratchy.”

“You would say that, your skin’s probably like rawhide.”

Derek almost smiles at that. He blinks, realizing that this is probably the answer to the mystery of Stiles’ behavior that’s been niggling at him – sensitive skin. Except, the sensitivity seems to be localized to a certain portion. And it’s so sensitive that, even clothed, Derek’s _breath_ had caused a reaction. That’s… interesting. It’s a surprise to Derek how very interesting he finds it.

“So, is this that thing’s hideout?” Stiles asks, holding up his phone with the pictures he took. He’s still holding the shirt away from his chest.

Derek will have to get back to Stiles’ sensitivity later. He takes the phone and goes through the pictures.

5\. Jut 

Stiles gasps as the ice water, from the glass that Scott knocked over, hits his chest. Scott grabs napkins and tries to dry Stiles. Derek watches from across the table as Stiles fends him off. Stiles heads to the bathroom, plucking at his shirt. Scott says something, but Derek’s barely hears him, his mind still caught on the two hard little nubs he’d seen poking at the front of Stiles’ soaked shirt.

+1. Rouse

After the meeting, Derek and Stiles are left alone as everyone else heads off to do their own things. Stiles looks at Derek like he wants to ask something. He opens his mouth, but closes it again. 

“What?” Derek asks brusquely.

“You’ve been… watching me,” Stiles says hesitantly.

“And?”

“ _And?_ Why have you been watching me? What about me is so interesting?”

Derek smirks a little. He reaches towards Stiles’ chest and then stops and lets his hand drop when Stiles cringes away. “That.”

Stiles frowns at him and crosses his arms over his chest.

“How sensitive are they?” slips out of Derek’s mouth before he can stop it.

“Just the right amount, thanks for asking,” Stiles snaps out.

Stiles’ defensiveness makes him want push. Well, really, everything about Stiles makes him want to push. But Derek has no excuse for the question he asks, “Could you come just from them being played with?” nor does he have any excuse for the way his voice goes deep or the way his manner goes predatory when he asks it.

Stiles eyes go very wide and his mouth falls open. “I don’t kn- You can’t just ask me something like that!”

“Would you like to find out?”

Stiles seems to be struck speechless.

Derek shakes his head and turns to leave. He doesn’t know what he could have been thinking.

“Yes,” Stiles croaks out behind him.

Derek turns back.

Stiles clears his throat. “Yes,” he says again, firmly this time.

Derek can move very quickly when he wants to and he gets Stiles into his bedroom as fast as he can without actually carrying him. Derek helps him out of his over-shirt and then waits as Stiles shyly sheds the t-shirt that was underneath. Stiles shudders a little as the air hits his chest, his nipples starting to harden. Derek reaches out with both hands and thumbs gently at Stiles’ nipples. Stiles shivers a little as they stiffen further into tiny rigid points. Derek gives one a very soft flick and Stiles moans loudly and then looks startled by the noise. Derek tries twisting them a little, but Stiles grimaces at that, so he stops. 

Derek pushes Stiles down to sit on the bed and then maneuvers him so that he’s lying down. Derek crawls up next to him and licks at a nipple while he scratches very lightly at the other with a fingernail. He almost wants to bring the claws out, he has even finer control with them, but he doesn’t want to freak Stiles out. Stiles is breathing very rapidly. Derek brings one of his hands to his mouth and licks at his thumb, getting it wet. He presses the thumb with its rapidly cooling wetness against one nipple as he takes the other into his mouth and sucks. Stiles arches up off the bed with a strangled yelp. Derek can smell it as Stiles comes. Derek pulls back reluctantly. 

Stiles breathes out shakily, his skin flushed. “So, I guess the answer is yes.” Then he makes a face and tugs at his pants.

“Maybe next time, we can try it without so many clothes,” Derek says as casually as he can manage, given how aroused he is.

“I- Yeah, next time. Not so many clothes. That would be good.”

“Good.”

“Uh, could, uh, next time be, like, now?”

Derek smiles slowly and nods.


	38. Being All Up Close and Personal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Prompt](http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/5710.html?thread=4702798#t4702798): Jackson/Stiles, H/C. Hurt!Stiles, Protective!Jackson

Jackson and Lydia try. They try for a better, deeper relationship, but really, they’re both too damaged from the past couple of months to make a go of it. So they end up as friends who sleep together, just sleep. It’s a comfort thing, something they both need - Jackson doesn’t know if it has anything to do with being a werewolf or not and he’s not going to ask anyone. They don’t tell anyone and, from the outside, it looks like they’re closer than ever.

~~~

Stilinski is the only one willing to talk, really talk, to Jackson about the whole kanima deal. Everyone else is either too uncomfortable or wants to gloss over everything. Stilinski, _Stiles_ , doesn’t blame him for killing anyone, but he doesn’t absolve Jackson of everything, either. Jackson knew something was wrong when Stiles and McCall had kidnapped him. Even if ‘Hey, you’re a killer lizard’ was hard to believe, he knew there was something going on. And he let his anger at their gall take over and got them in trouble just because he was feeling vindictive.

Stiles tells him everything, not all at once – Jackson just can’t handle that. But in small, blunt doses, Stiles tells him about the victims, about Matt, about it all. Even when it’s hard for Stiles. He tells Jackson about watching the mechanic die and not being able to move. Stiles tells him about being afraid that he was going to drown. He tells Jackson about the deputies, people that Stiles had known, people that were now dead. He tells Jackson how worried he’d been for his dad and how sure he’d been that Matt was either going to shoot them or have Jackson kill them.

~~~

Derek doesn’t have much patience with him. Jackson’s not sure he blames him, Jackson had sort of ratted him out to Argent and had demanded the bite. And Jackson doesn’t much trust Derek. It doesn’t make for a great situation in which to learn, but he does show up to training. McCall seems a little wary himself, when he comes. But where he goes, Stiles follows. And Lahey is there, along with Boyd and Erica. Lydia comes because she doesn’t ever want to be in the dark about what’s happening again. Allison is conspicuous in her absence, for a while, anyway. Jackson only knows the bare bones of what happened there, but it’s nice not to be the only one with a lot to put right.

Stiles does his snark thing during training. At first, Jackson just thinks that Stiles is being obtuse to how much he’s annoying Derek, but then he realizes that Stiles is kind of running interference – only making remarks when things are getting too heated and frustration is making everyone’s tempers run high. 

Training goes on and they get more comfortable with each other, learn each other’s strengths and weaknesses. Derek talks about anchors (and, of course, his is anger). But then Scott says his is Allison and Isaac says his is his dad. It makes sense, love, in whatever form, is an anchor. Lydia will be a good anchor, has already been a good anchor, and Jackson is not that worried about his control.

~~~

Jackson goes to the school counselor and an expensive therapist. Because you can’t just go from being declared dead to okay (he’d given the coroner’s assistant a hell of a scare when Scott and Isaac had snuck him back into the morgue). Every time someone calls it a medical miracle, he can barely keep from rolling his eyes. He uses his parents’ relief to get the restraining order lifted. He’s pretty sure his parents now believe Scott and Stiles were trying to save him from himself, which they kind of were.

He actually talks to both the counselor and his therapist. Not about the kanima/werewolf parts, but other things - being adopted, his insecurities, his control issues (which have very much multiplied). And it helps, some. But it helps more to talk to Lydia, to talk to Stiles, and finally, when he can’t help himself anymore, to talk to Danny. Danny freaks out, but only mildly and not for very long and then he demands to be included.

It’s weird, but it works. Derek is disgruntled by yet another human becoming part of their group. They’re not a pack, not yet, but Jackson thinks they’re almost there, even if he’s not completely sure he wants to be in a pack. Jackson has always wanted more, from everything, but he doesn’t know what to do if it gets to be too much.

~~~

They’re all out in the woods, training (well, okay, it may be a little more like playing, today). Even Derek seems to be enjoying himself when he stills. Then Jackson senses it, there are other people in the woods. Humans, who smell like gun powder and wolf’s bane – hunters. They have contingency plans for this, grab the nearest human and/or scatter. Stiles is the closest to Jackson, but he just has to make sure someone has Lydia. Derek’s got her. Jackson turns back and Stiles ducks down when there’s gunfire. Jackson scoops him up and runs.

After a few minutes, Jackson comes to a halt. All he can hear is Stiles and he can’t smell anyone else… but he can smell blood. He looks down at Stiles and says, “You’re hurt.”

“Just a scratch,” Stiles says, making a face and squirming a little.

Jackson doesn’t put him down, just continues on to one of their little refuges. They have about a dozen set up - a lean-to, a couple of tree-house blinds, two small shacks, a closed-off mineshaft, an old bomb shelter, the storm cellar of an abandoned house, and a few caves. They all have stashes consisting of a first-aid kit, a sleeping bag, several foil blankets, matches, a flashlight and batteries, bottled water, protein bars, all wrapped up in a water-proof tarp. The stashes are mostly for the benefit of the humans in their group.

Jackson reaches one of the caves and puts Stiles down. Then he goes inside and arranges the tarp on the ground and the sleeping bag on the tarp. He takes out the first-aid kit and a bottle of water and goes back out to Stiles. Stiles has his shirt lifted and is inspecting his side. It’s more like a bloody furrow in his skin than just a scratch. Stiles drops his shirt and tries to take the kit. Jackson bats his hands away and makes him take off his shirt. Stiles isn’t bulked up like the rest of them, but he has a fair amount of lean muscle. Jackson maybe stares for a second because he hasn’t really seen Stiles’ chest before, even though they’ve shared locker rooms forever. Jackson wonders if maybe Stiles is self-conscious about not being as bulked up as the rest of them. Jackson can admit he likes showing off his physique and none of the other guys are shy about showing themselves. 

Stiles clears his throat. “My eyes are up here,” he says sarcastically.

Jackson’s eyes snap to his face and Stiles has a faint blush on his cheeks. “I was just blinded by the paleness,” Jackson says, not half as bitingly as he’d intended. He cleans the wound, feeling guilty as Stiles flinches. If Jackson hadn’t hesitated, Stiles would be unmarked. He didn’t lose a lot of blood, but a bullet did carve a groove in his side. “Sorry,” Jackson mutters.

“Yeah, because I totally blame you for making sure Lydia’s okay,” Stiles says mockingly.

Jackson bandages it up. “Lydia and I aren’t together anymore, you know,” Jackson says as casually as he can.

“You aren’t?”

“We’re friends. Only friends.”

“Since when?”

“A while. So, you know, if you wanted to ask her out, she might say yes,” Jackson says. And he’d better be getting credit for this somewhere, karmically or something.

“No, no she wouldn’t,” Stiles says seriously. Seriousness seems wrong on him somehow, even though he’s actually serious a lot and just hides it under and around his snarkiness. “If she wanted me, she wouldn’t have tried to set me up with Kayla Farrell. Or Henry Wilkins.”

“You like guys?” Actually, Jackson’s not sure why he’s surprised by that.

“I don’t know. Maybe, sometimes.” Stiles puts his shirt back on and frowns at the patch of blood staining it.

Jackson repacks the kit and stands up. “Come on.”

Stiles stands up and almost falls over, Jackson catching his arm. “Crap, I think I twisted my knee when I was trying not to get shot.”

Jackson scoops him up again, ignoring his squawk, and carries him into the cave, depositing him on the sleeping bag. Jackson sets the kit down nearby. He’s about to settle in beside Stiles when he hears something, someone. And they’re getting closer. He’s torn between going to check it out and maybe leading whoever it is away or staying here to defend Stiles. Stiles is hurt and won’t be able to run. Jackson wolfs out as the sounds get closer and crouches in front of Stiles.

“What’s going on? Why are you all, you know, grr?” Stiles asks quietly.

“Someone’s out there,” Jackson whispers.

“Do we need to move?”

Jackson listens closely, picks up a wisp of conversation. “They don’t know we’re here. But they could get lucky, stumble on the entrance, unless…”

“Unless?”

“I could maybe lead them away.”

“Dude, that’s kind of dangerous.”

“So is getting found in here. They don’t sound like they have a lot of experience.”

“Crap, I hate amateurs. But then I also hate the experienced ones who are completely unbalanced.”

Jackson stands up and takes a step forward, stops, and goes back.

“Go.”

“What?”

“If you think you can lead them away without getting caught, go ahead. You can run if you have to.”

“I wouldn’t just run and leave you here. You’re hurt, I should stay.”

“I’ll be fine. If they find me, I’ll just convince them I’m a harmless little human.”

“Okay. But I won’t run.”

“Jackson, don’t be stupid. Run if you have to, lose them, and come back, it’s not rocket science.”

Oh. “Fine.”

“Good.”

“I’ll be back.”

“Hey, can you say that again with an Austrian accent?”

“Shut up, Stiles.”

~~~

It takes Jackson a while to get back to the cave. It hadn’t taken him that long to lead the little group of hunters away, but he’d nearly run into two other groups and had had to make a wide circle around them and do some backtracking. They can’t leave right now, not with all this activity. According to Danny’s texts, Isaac’s still in the woods too, but everyone else got away clean. They’ll wait until morning and see if the hunters have given up. If not, the others can create a diversion while they get out (hopefully, they won’t have to do that, it will probably make the hunters more determined to catch all of them). Scott is covering for Stiles, while Danny is covering for Jackson. 

All told, Jackson’s away from the cave for about three hours. The longer he’s gone, the more anxious to get back to Stiles he is. He doesn’t know why he’s so worried. No, that’s not true. Stiles is… important to him. Apparently more so than he’d thought. Yay, self-realization, he thinks sourly. Jackson has everybody categorized, in neat little boxes in his head. Yes, they can move from one box to another, but usually only when Jackson deliberately moves them. Stiles is like one of those super high-bounce balls, though – you try to put him in one box and he bounces right into another. Jackson’s not even sure what box he’s in. Except, Jackson’s been talking to Stiles, listening to Stiles, and now that he thinks about it, maybe showing off for Stiles, on the field and in training. Self-realization sucks. This could be a problem. Jackson is bad with affection and consideration. Not bad at feeling them, bad at expressing them. He can do it with Danny and Lydia, sometimes, but he’s really had to work at it.

Jackson gets to the cave and finds Stiles curled up in the sleeping bag, dozing. Stiles wakes up when Jackson gets close. Jackson unzips the bag and, careful of Stiles’ injuries, climbs in to keep Stiles warm. And, okay, for comfort. Jackson curls around him and Stiles sleepily accommodates him.

After a minute, Jackson says, “Stiles.”

“Hmm?”

“What kind of guy?”

“Huh?” Stiles asks on a yawn.

“What kind of guy do you, maybe, sometimes, like? Smart?”

“Yeah, smart, yes.”

“Hot?”

“Hot’s good.”

“Nice?”

“Nice. Hmm. Not necessarily.”

Jackson smirks a little at that response. “Good car? Into sports? Blond?”

“I don’t think- Oh, _oh_. Um, yeah, all that. Plus, uh, self-involved and, you know, kind of arrogant.”

“You go for that kind of thing? Self-involved and arrogant?”

“Well, maybe not go for, but, like, accept as part of the whole.”

“So, then, what else?”

“Pretty blue eyes. Cheekbones. Muscular, like really nicely built. Good at pretty much anything school-related. Okay, wow, I can’t. I get that this is kind of a flirting type thing, but it just feels like I’m pandering to your ego. Jesus, yes, Jackson, I like you.”

“How romantic. I’m swooning,” Jackson says.

“Do you really think that if we started something, the two of _us_ , that it would be characterized by romantic words?”

“No. I’m thinking mostly snark and insults.”

“Yeah.”

“Works for me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Jackson pulls him a little closer and drops a brief kiss on his lips.

“And here I was expecting, like, stars and fireworks. Guess-“

Jackson kisses him again, making it deeper and wetter, using teeth and tongue until Stiles makes a noise that Jackson is totally calling a whimper. Jackson pulls back and asks smugly, “Better?”

“I, uh, marginally.”

“Yeah, you’d think with a mouth like yours and how often you exercise it, you would be better at this.”

“Hey!” Stiles says, trying to sound affronted, but the edge of laughter in his voice gives him away.

“Go to sleep. We’ll pick this up later.”

“Yeah, yeah. Ass.”

“Whatever. Dick.”

“I’m not sure that’s really a good insult, seeing as how, presumably, it’s something you like.”

“Oh, so you’re not at all into ass, then?”

“Good point. Jerk? Nope, I like to do that. You suck? Yeah, not really a bad thing. Aha! Cretin.”

Jackson snorts. “Shut up, Stiles.”

“Cad? Wretch? Twit? I kind of like that one.”

“Shut up, Stiles.”

“Fine. Twit.”


	39. Life Fulfilled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Prompt](http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/6131.html?thread=4503283#t4503283): Derek/Stiles, kidfic, daddy!Stiles. In the few kidfics in this fandom, Derek is usually the dad and Stiles joins his family, but I'd love to see the opposite. Stiles has a kid - maybe got a girl accidentally pregnant in college, or whatever floats your boat - and Derek meets him, smushy stuff happens, big happy family results.  
>  I'd prefer this not to be mpreg and to be more along the lines of realistic romantic dramedy, but anything would be appreciated!

It’s gradual, happening so slowly that at first Stiles is sure he’s just being paranoid. But he isn’t. He isn’t getting all the information anymore. He’s being let in on fewer and fewer plans, asked to contribute less and less. The pack (well, honestly he’s not sure if it really is a pack at this point, but everyone seems to be working together – Derek, Peter, Isaac, Erica, Boyd, Scott, Jackson, and Lydia, everyone except Allison, and Danny, who still appears to be in the dark) is distant with Stiles now. Not ignoring him, just not really including him. Even if he sometimes gets the feeling that one of them is watching him, he never catches anyone.

And then Allison returns to the fold. And then Danny is all of a sudden in. And Isaac has appeared to usurp Stiles’ position as Scott’s best friend. Stiles keeps trying. He keeps pushing, keeps getting them to acknowledge him. He grits his teeth, puts on a cheerful expression, and has a snarky quip always at the ready. It works, for a while. But it’s exhausting. And little by little, he stops trying so hard. Then he stops trying at all.

And, of course, that’s when Dad finds out about werewolves and everything else. Mostly because Stiles isn’t running interference anymore since no one in the pack is letting him know anything. And it’s horrible, watching his dad connect all of the dots, watching him realize why Stiles had been in the middle of so many ongoing investigations and how much danger Stiles had been in. The only consolation Stiles has for his dad is that he’s not really involved anymore.

It doesn’t seem to matter that much, though. Because while Stiles has come to accept he’s not really a part of the pack, someone doesn’t appear to get the message. The summer before senior year, he gets kidnapped twice inside a month. The look on his dad’s face the first time is bad enough. Stiles doesn’t ever want to see the look on his dad’s face that he saw when he was rescued from the second kidnapping.

He researches and talks to a few people and then contacts the guidance counselor. It turns out, he has enough credits to graduate in December. So, he starts up the application process for early admission. It takes some work and a hell of a lot of essays and recommendation letters. 

The rest of the summer passes in kind of a daze. He gets a part-time job and that helps some. At least he isn’t alone so much. Then school starts and it’s school. But he’s weirdly grateful for the amount of time it takes up. It’s a chore just to get through the day sometimes. It takes him a while to realize that he’s grieving, in mourning for the friendships, the odd little almost-family that could have been.

~~~

He gets several acceptance letters. He hadn’t applied anywhere more than five hundred miles away, mostly because he didn’t want to be too far from his dad. He picks a school that’s in state, but it’s still about an eight hour drive. His dad is both sad and relieved that he won’t be able to just drive back home on the weekends.

There are some strange reactions when everyone finds out. Scott is upset, even though he hasn’t talked to Stiles in more than passing for weeks. Isaac seems pretty upset too, though that may just be because Scott’s upset. Derek, with his scowly face, starts showing up at more places that Stiles is, always at a distance, though. The scowly face isn’t that unusual, it’s just been a while since it was directed at Stiles – Stiles had figured that Derek hadn’t thought he was worth the effort. Erica glares at him more. Boyd frowns, but it’s more pensive than anything else. Allison just looks at him sadly sometimes. Jackson sneers a little more. In contrast, Danny and Lydia are calm and even coolly congratulatory. Peter isn’t around much so Stiles doesn’t actually know if he has any sort of reaction.

~~~

College is miserable. Actually, classes are great, except his introductory anthropology class (the professor has a way of making even the most interesting things sound so boring), but when Stiles isn’t in them, he’s miserable. He thought it would be better, thought he could move on. But he can’t seem to make friends, not real friends. He’s always keeping parts of himself back. There are study partners and classmates that seem to enjoy both his humor and his chatter, but he can’t let anyone in. He goes on a few dates, thinking maybe if he gets to know someone that way, he could get close. It doesn’t work and he also finds out that he can’t do casual sex. He’s fine on the lead up, but every time it starts to go past heavy petting, he bails. Apparently, he wants his first (and every) time to be someone that he’s close to. Which sucks, because, you know, no sex.

He stumbles into a summer internship. He had been looking forward to going back home and spending time with his dad, but the job is awesome and pays really well. Even though his scholarships are paying for almost everything, there are always incidentals. So he only gets to spend a few days at home. His dad does come to visit though. It’s nice because his dad takes actual time off and relaxes.

Then when school starts up again, he finds this group, it’s not quite a pack, there’s no alpha, just a bunch of omegas who have come together to form this pseudo-pack. They’re a little surprised when he realizes what they are so quickly. He hangs out with them some. One of the born werewolves, a pretty girl with brown hair and green eyes named Marina Duran, takes an interest in him, flirting lightly with him each time he shows up.

But then, somehow, after only a couple of weeks, there are witches. And they appear to be using love spells, which is gross. It may be kind of appealing in the abstract, as a fantasy or something, but actually taking away someone’s choice about who they love or who they want is just awful. He gets caught up trying to figure out a way to stop them, but before he can, a couple of them focus in on him hit him with a spell that feels so wrong. He blacks out. He wakes up later, naked, in a bed with Marina. He tries to keep calm, but something in his reaction must give him away. She starts asking questions and her werewolf senses let her detect his lies. She finally gets the whole story out of him and Marina is horrified. He feels really bad about it because how was she supposed to know he was under a spell? The pseudo-pack goes after the witches, though they won’t tell him what happened. He finds himself drifting away from them after that.

~~~

He’s in his third semester. He has no friends, just friendly acquaintances. Now, he panics a little whenever someone even hints at trying to get close to him, fending them off with a barrage of words. In April, Marina comes to him, pregnant, tells him that she’d decided on adoption and then decided that maybe he should know. Before he even thinks about it, he’s telling her that he wants the baby. It’s almost a knee-jerk reaction, but it feels true, right. She’s surprised, but after they talk about it, she agrees. He offers to help with the medical expenses and she turns him down, but does invite him to go with her when she talks to her midwife, Jane, who is also a werewolf.

The baby is due in early June, he starts buying baby things and making plans for going home. He puts off telling his father, doesn’t want him to be disappointed or upset about the way it happened. He knows, no matter what his dad’s reaction is, his dad will help him and want him home. He thinks about just showing up with the baby, but decides that’s not fair. He decides to tell his dad after finals in mid-May, three weeks before the baby’s due, so that his dad has time to get used to it and so that he knows why Stiles isn’t coming home right after finals like he’d planned. 

Marina goes into labor less than an hour after he finishes his last final. It’s a boy and a werewolf. He’s fine and Marina’s fine, but she doesn’t want to see him. Jane, the midwife, cleans up while Stiles holds the baby in another room. The baby, his son, looks kind of like an alien, kind of purple with an oddly shaped head (both of which are normal and temporary, according to the midwife), but he’s beautiful.

He looks down at his blanket-wrapped son and says, “Hope you’re not like me. For one, because Dad, my dad, your gr-granddad, would say it serves me right. And two, I’m kind screwed up. But I’m going to try to be the best dad I can. I learned from one of the best, and I’ll have his help. Oh, and I’m totally not his fault. He’s great dad. I just wasn’t the best kid.”

Jane comes to find him. She has the paperwork filled out, except for the baby’s name. She asks if he has one picked out yet. He has. She fills that in and then gives him a new parent kit and reiterates some of the newborn care instructions with him. She prepares a bottle and he gives the baby its first feeding. He burps the baby and then gets him into one of the very tiny diapers and the white onesie he’d brought over last week along with the car seat (he’d been a little embarrassed about bringing them over so early, but he’d wanted to be prepared). He fetches the car seat and they get the baby buckled in and he falls asleep.

He leaves the baby with the Jane and goes in to say goodbye to Marina. She tells him to take care of himself and makes sure he has a way to contact her if he has any questions that no one else can answer. He kisses her on the cheek and thanks her. He goes to the door and turns back. They give each other half-smiles and then he leaves the room. Jane helps him get the car seat buckled into the Jeep’s backseat (he’d been planning to get a more reliable, more family-friendly car after finals). And then he’s headed back to his tiny apartment, just off campus.

~~~

Stiles gets the baby settled in the bassinet next to his bed and stares at him. He starts to freak out a little, thinking he’s going to be a terrible father. He calls his dad and the second he hears his voice, the entire story comes flooding out of him, including being scared of his reaction.

His dad’s quiet for a long, horrible moment. The he says, “Do you want me to come down and get you and the baby?”

Stiles swallows and says, “Yes,” in a shaky voice.

“Okay, I’ll be there tomorrow.”

“You don’t have-“

“I’ll be there tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

“I love you, son.”

“I love you, too, Dad.”

His dad clears his throat. “So, what’s my grandson’s name? You said that the name was filled in on the birth certificate, but you didn’t say what it was.”

“Oh, yeah, it’s, uh, Ryan Theodore Stilinski. I guess I should start calling him that rather than the baby.”

“Well, don’t get too attached, he might just pick his own in a few years.”

Stiles barks out a laugh.

“You know, it’s been a while since I’ve heard you laugh.”

“Yeah, I’ve just been… Yeah.”

“He’s asleep right now, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, you should get some sleep yourself. You learn pretty quickly to sleep when the baby sleeps.”

“Oh, um, yeah.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

~~~

His dad arrives towing a flatbed trailer for the Jeep. He spends a lot of time staring at Stiles and a lot of time holding and staring at Ryan. Stiles totally gets it. Stiles goes to talk to his landlord since he’d made arrangements to stay another month. His landlord’s pretty understanding. His dad sleeps on the sofa. Stiles is able to get Ryan fed twice when he wakes up without waking his dad, but the third time, his dad takes over and Stiles goes back to sleep for a couple of hours.

When Stiles wakes up, they pack up all of Stiles’ things (not all that much since the apartment came furnished) and all the things he bought for the baby (yeah, he’d kind of bought a lot of stuff). They put most of it in the Jeep and then his dad loads the Jeep on the trailer while Stiles feeds Ryan. They do some cleaning. Stiles calls his landlord, who comes up and does a walkthrough. Then Stiles is handing over the keys and address in Beacon Hills. Stiles had filled out the change of address form online yesterday when it had occurred to him, but you never know.

They start off just after getting some fast food for lunch. Stiles sits in the back next to Ryan in his car seat (he idly wonders if Jane knows some magic because getting the car seat buckled in the Jeep had been so easy compared to the half hour of fighting to get it secured in the backseat of this vehicle that had occurred this morning). His dad tries to talk to Stiles about what led to Ryan and why Stiles didn’t tell him about it. Stiles tries to articulate it, but can’t and his dad lets it go, asking Stiles to at least think about talking to someone about it. Stiles agrees to think about it. They don’t talk much after that. It’s a long drive and everyone’s cranky and tired by the time they pull up to the house.

~~~

Stiles kind of hides out the next few weeks, spending most of his time in the house, with occasional jaunts in the backyard. Plus there’s a trip a couple of towns over to a pediatrician who is in the know. And his dad just lets him hide out. Actually, he must be enabling it because none of the neighbors or his dad’s deputies have stopped by to see Ryan. Stiles wonders if his dad is shopping in the next town over when Stiles asks him to pick up something for Ryan. Beacon Hills, like other small towns, likes its gossip and if no one has tried to find out why the sheriff’s buying baby stuff, then his dad must be putting some effort into it.

It’s hard to have any sort of a normal sleep schedule when Ryan needs to be fed and/or changed every three or four hours. Stiles can only get back to sleep at night about half the time after waking up enough to take care of Ryan. The other half, he usually ends up taking a morning nap. Ryan is only awake maybe six or seven hours total – the longest stretch being late afternoon and early evening. He doesn’t cry much, mostly when he needs to get changed or when he just wants to be held. Usually, when he’s hungry, he makes this whimpering noise that will escalate into crying if Stiles lets it go on too long.

Ryan’s pretty curious, always try to look around, even though Stiles knows his eyesight isn’t that clear, yet. Then again, from what he’d learned from Marina and Jane, although the werewolf super senses do come in gradually, sometimes born werewolves can develop certain things faster than humans. Thank God he doesn’t have to worry about Ryan changing into his wolf form until he hits adolescence. Ryan has a soft tuft of brown hair the same shade as Stiles’ and it sticks up a little in the front. His eyes changed from that newborn blue-grey to the clear, light green of Marina’s. Stiles thinks he sees a little of Stiles’ mom in the shape of Ryan’s mouth, but maybe he’s imagining it.

~~~

Stiles is feeding Ryan and telling his dad about an awesome discussion they’d had in his humanities class.

“You really like your classes,” his dad says, wearing a slight frown.

“Yeah, some of my classes have been great.”

“Raising a kid takes a lot of time and energy. Especially when you’re a single parent.”

Stiles is a little confused by the non sequitur. “Uh, I figured.”

“And college also takes a lot of time and energy. And I know you can handle a lot. But you don’t have to do it alone.”

“I know you’ll always be there if I need you. When I need you.”

“That’s exactly what I’ve been thinking about.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ryan’s going to need someone to look after him and child care can be expensive. You’d probably have to get a part-time job and then you wouldn’t really see Ryan. So, I was thinking about me looking for something, maybe part-time, near your school. I could help out with Ryan and be close if you needed me. And if I couldn’t find something, well, retirement’s an option.”

Stiles mind is reeling a bit, but he latches on to the last thing his dad said. “Did you want to retire?”

His dad sighs. “I, it wouldn’t be the worst thing. I know I was relieved when you got accepted, but it’s so far away. You’re not home enough. I missed you, kid. And I know I’ll miss Ryan. I don’t want you so far from me, struggling.”

“Aw, Dad, I missed you, too. And I already made some plans, which I actually thought I told you about, sorry. I’m transferring to a college that’s less than a couple hours drive from here. But a lot of my course work will be online and I’ll only have be on campus maybe once a week, depending. I was thinking Ryan and I could stay here, if you didn’t mind.”

His dad smiles at him. “No, I definitely wouldn’t mind.”

Stiles smiles back and then heads upstairs to put the now sleeping Ryan in his bassinet.

~~~

Stiles finally decides to stop hiding out and get out of the house. So, for the first time in a while, he’s the one to go grocery shopping. He left Ryan with his dad and is only slightly freaking out about being away from Ryan. Stiles gets everything on his list and steers his cart to the front of the store to check out, but the aisle he chose is full of shoppers and carts, so he backs up and runs right into someone. He turns around to apologize and it’s Scott.

“Stiles!” Scott says excitedly, smiling. Then, it looks like he’s remembering something and his face goes weirdly blank. Suddenly, his nose wrinkles and he looks at Stiles in confusion. “What- You- I have to go.” And he leaves very quickly.

Stiles stares after him, wondering what just happened. He shakes his head and pushes his cart up the next aisle and gets to the check stand. He gets everything paid for and loaded in the Jeep, still thinking about Scott. He almost backs into someone with the Jeep, distracted. He pushes it out of his head, not wanting an accident, and drives home. He gets home and hauls the groceries in. He starts putting things away, but then his dad is there with Ryan, handing him over to Stiles and taking over putting the groceries away.

Stiles plays with Ryan for a while, mostly making silly faces and funny noises at him. His dad gets everything put away and then goes upstairs to put his uniform on. He’s working nights this week. He and the undersheriff switch off shifts every week so that they can both know all of the deputies and how they work, which is a real benefit for both emergency situations and employee evaluations. And, although it seems as busy as ever, his dad has been delegating a little more and working less overtime with Ryan here.

Stiles puts Ryan in his bouncy seat and fixes a couple of sandwiches for his dad and wraps them and packs them up. Then he makes up a couple of egg white omelets, slices up some honeydew melon, and brews up some half-caff coffee, since his dad likes breakfast food before going into work, no matter when his shifts are. Stiles gets everything set out on the table and then moves Ryan so that he can watch them (which Ryan loves to do, sometimes making cooing noises). His dad comes back down and gives Stiles a look when he sees the omelets are yolk-free, but doesn’t say anything. They eat and talk about what’s going on in town. Stiles doesn’t tell him about Scott because his dad gets this troubled look on his face whenever Scott comes up. Stiles used to think it was the werewolf thing, but he’d realized it was more about his and Scott’s lost friendship when his dad had tried to talk to him about it once. After they finish, Stiles pours the rest of the coffee into a thermos and grabs the sandwiches in their lunch bag from the fridge and hands them to his dad. His dad plays with Ryan for a minute or so before reluctantly heading out.

Ryan starts getting fussy and whimpering, so Stiles makes up a bottle for him. He finishes it pretty quickly and then burps prodigiously. There’s a knock on the door and Stiles thinks about ignoring whoever it is as he looks at Ryan, in his arms, blinking sleepily up at him. But he goes to the door and checks to see who it is before opening it. It’s Derek. Stiles pulls back a little in surprise and just stands there for a few seconds, unsure what to do.

Then Derek speaks up through the door, “I know you’re there, Stiles. I can hear you.”

Stiles sighs. Right, werewolf. He opens the door. Derek stands there and stares at him. It’s been over a year and a half since Stiles last saw him. He’s still impossibly good looking, maybe even more so than before. Stiles suddenly wonders if Derek had had any idea how attractive Stiles had found him. It’s not like he could really hide it, not from someone with super senses. Then again, back then, there had been a lot of people that had got him going, so to speak, besides Derek. Like Lydia. And Erica (and okay, yeah, Isaac and Boyd). Danny, of course. There were even occasional moments with Allison and Scott. Not Jackson, though, but only because his doucheyness effectively cancelled out his prettiness. So, yeah, maybe everyone, every wolf, had just thought that he was perpetually aroused. And that’s pretty much what it had felt like. Stiles abruptly realizes that he and Derek have been standing there, not saying a word, for a while.

Stiles clears his throat and says, “Derek.”

“Scott said you smelled almost like another pack,” Derek says flatly.

Stiles tilts his head in confusion and then looks down at Ryan, who yawns and closes his eyes. “Oh.”

“The baby is yours. And a werewolf.”

Neither of those statements had sounded anything like a question, but Stiles finds himself nodding anyway.

Derek looks very unhappy.

Stiles steps back and Derek comes in, closing the door behind him. It seems like Derek is too close, now that he’s inside. Stiles says, “I’m going to go put him down.” He doesn’t wait for a reply and heads upstairs. Derek follows him up, which makes Stiles kind of anxious. Stiles settles Ryan in his bassinet and turns on the room unit of the baby monitor. He grabs the parental unit and turns it on. Derek watches from the doorway the whole time. Stiles is glad he doesn’t try to enter the room. As Stiles leaves his room, Derek steps back. Stiles pulls the door mostly closed. He heads back downstairs, Derek following again.

They end up in the living room, Derek staring at Stiles again. Stiles starts to fidget. Derek huffs out a breath and says, “Dammit, Stiles. We got you away from the pack and you go out and start your own.”

There are so many things Stiles wants to say that they all crowd up his mind and he can’t actually say anything. What finally makes it from his brain to his mouth is unsurprisingly sarcastic, “Yep, that was totally my plan. Number one: start my own pack, number two: haven’t figured that one out yet, and, of course, number three: profit.”

Derek just looks at him.

“Mind telling me why you wanted me away?” Because this is something that Stiles thinks about on sleepless nights. He never gets to a satisfying conclusion. He never understands and maybe if he did, he could put it behind him and start making friends again, stop being mired in his own insecurities.

“You kept getting taken.”

Stiles waits for a minute, but Derek doesn’t say anything more. “I know. I was there.”

“They focused on you. It wasn’t that you were human, it was you. Once you’ve been noticed by supernatural beings, you stand out to them, like a beacon.” Derek blows out a breath. “Peter mentioned something about your aura and Deaton confirmed it. And when you smell like or interact with the pack, it gets you noticed.”

“I know.”

“And sometimes it’s people who have been around the supernatural long enough, people like hunt- What do you mean you know?”

“After the third time, I figured something was going on, so I looked it up. And wait, you guys didn’t start pulling away until, like, January of junior year – it took you that long to figure out?”

“You knew?” Derek asks, almost growling.

“Yes, I knew! Hi, my name is Stiles, I’m the clever one. I knew and I decided that I wanted to be a part of the pack, _anyway_. Because it was _my choice_.”

“Stiles-“

“You know, I wondered if that was part of it, if you’d all just gotten sick of rescuing me, even though I did my fair share of rescuing, too. But I thought that someone would have said something, made me stay behind more. The weirdly gentle shut out really confused me, so I kept trying. I kept trying until I felt like the bratty little brother that everyone just tolerated tagging along. I thought my best friend in the world finally understood that I was annoying, but just didn’t have the heart to tell me. I thought I wasn’t good enough,” Stiles says, his voice cracking on the last few words.

“Scott wanted to tell you. I thought it would just make you more determined to stick with us,” Derek says, sounding subdued.

“Well, congratulations you were right. But, you know, I still got taken, twice, even after you pulled away.”

“That was right after you stumbled onto our new training ground, remember? And it was only twice because we didn’t get rid of everyone the first time around.” Derek frowns at him. “It doesn’t matter, now, since you’ve obviously been involved with another pack. Where are they? Where is the baby’s mother? Why aren’t you with them?”

“There wasn’t really a pack, not really, just some omegas that sort of grouped together sometimes. His mother didn’t really want a pack of her own.”

“The baby should have a pack.”

“The baby, who’s name is Ryan, by the way, will be just fine with me and my dad. I know there are benefits to him being part of a pack, but he doesn’t need one, at least not until he changes and maybe not even then. And born werewolf children are exempt from the territory thing until they change, so don’t try to get us to leave using that.”

“I wasn’t- I meant my pack.”

Stiles snorts. 

“What about you getting noticed? What happens when something comes after you?”

“I’ve been in town a month.”

Derek looks surprised by that. “You have?”

“If Scott hadn’t known me, he never would have noticed me.”

“How?”

“Necessity is the mother of invention. With a baby on the way, I needed something. I’d been looking into it off and on for a while, but then I went into high gear, did a lot of research, made a few contacts, and came up with, hmm, an herbal supplement. It kind of obscures my aura and maybe a little more.”

The look on Derek’s face is complicated. Upset, maybe even regretful. He shakes his head. “A bigger pack would be better for the, for Ryan,” he says and Stiles thinks that that isn’t what he’d been going to say.

“He’s fine. We’re fine.”

Derek’s shoulders slump a little and he nods. He turns to leave, but then hesitates and turns back. “We never meant for you to feel- We didn’t want you gone, we just wanted you safe.” And then he leaves.

Stiles stands there for a minute, just processing. He feels like he should be a lot angrier. And, sure, he feels some anger and some hurt, but mostly he feels tired and sort of relieved. It wasn’t anything he’d done, they hadn’t just gotten fed up with him. He wonders why he isn’t more upset, because, honestly, he’s never liked having decisions made for him. There’s a sound from the monitor and he listens closely, but Ryan isn’t waking up, just making some noise in his sleep, like he does sometimes. And that’s why he’s not as upset as he could be. He has Ryan. If there was a way to go back and have his friends and not have the thing with the witches and still have Ryan, he would be all over that, but that’s not the way the world works. You can only get to where you are by going through the things you went through.

~~~

Stiles has a restless night, mostly because Ryan does. So, it’s early morning and they’re both awake. Stiles is half-reclined on the bed, his back propped up against his pillows and his knees up with his feet flat on the bed. Ryan is propped up on his thighs. Somehow, Patty Cake morphs into Stiles singing Katy Perry. Stiles thinks that if Ryan could intentionally roll his eyes, he would totally be doing it right now. Stiles smiles at him. He feels lighter, less burdened. It had sucked to lose his friends, the not knowing why had weighed him down.

Stiles ends up telling his dad about Derek’s visit over breakfast (well, his breakfast, his dad’s late night meal). Then he tells more about what had happened when everyone had distanced themselves from Stiles, which his dad had known about in general terms, but not details. His dad looks weirdly guilty.

“January of your junior year?” his dad asks.

“Yeah.”

“I may have had something to do with that. It was the third time you’d disappeared and I had a meltdown of sorts. Scott was there and Derek was too. I may have said something about you always being the one to get hurt and that being around them and their little group was dangerous for you. I worded it more strongly than that.”

Stiles grimaces internally. That had not been the third time. There were many times that his dad didn’t know about and as much as he’s been all about the sharing with his father lately, there is no way he’s going to tell him about all of the times Stiles was in danger. “It wasn’t your fault. You’re my dad, you’re supposed to worry about me.”

“Hmm. So, this ‘shining’ you have-“

“Dad, no. I do not have any ‘shining’. I am not a character in a Stephen King novel. I just, um, stand out to certain people, and, uh, beings, a little. And, you know, not anymore.”

“Okay. Still going to call it the shining. I’m glad you found something that makes you less of a target. Wish you’d found it sooner.”

“Me too.”

“Is what Derek said true? About it being better for Ryan to be part of his pack?”

“Yeah. Or, well, I don’t know. I don’t know what Derek’s pack is like now. It would be good for Ryan to be part of a bigger, _stable_ pack that includes werewolves and it probably wouldn’t hurt for him to be around a born werewolf. And even if the pack is stable, my being a part of it might make it less so, since I didn’t agree with half the stuff that Derek did. And there’s no way I’d let Ryan be a part of the pack without me.”

“Couldn’t Ryan be a stabilizing force for the pack?”

“Been reading up, huh?”

“Well, my grandson is a werewolf,” his dad says matter-of-factly.

“Yeah, you were pretty cool about that.”

“I’m not wild about the fact that there are people out there that will come after him just because of what he is, but he’s my grandkid. I love him, no matter what. Same goes for my kid.”

Stiles smiles, a little choked up.

“Not that I necessarily want you to run out and become a werewolf, but I would understand if you did.”

Yeah, Stiles isn’t sure that being a werewolf is for him, but if it’s what Ryan needs, he’ll do it. In a heartbeat. “Thanks, Dad. Oh, and a baby in the pack can be cohesive, tends to be, but it can also cause jealousies. It depends on the pack and the pack dynamics.”

“Are you writing a paper about this?”

“I may have put a few thoughts down.”

“A few?”

Stiles makes a face. “Eighty-two pages and counting.”

“Only you, kiddo.” His dad shakes his head and then looks thoughtful. “Let me know when you’re done. I’d like to read it.”

“Sure thing, Daddy-o.”

~~~

Scott shows up later that day. He’s talking almost as soon as Stiles opens the door. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It was, but you kept getting, and then your dad. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to, but I didn’t want you hurt either. I’m sorry.”

Stiles blinks at the torrent of words worthy of Stiles himself. “Yeah, but are you sorry?”

Scott huffs out a little laugh and then sighs. “It really sucked. I missed you so much and you were right there. And then you were so far away and it was worse. I hated it.”

“Did you?”

“I know it sucked worse for you. Do you, do you hate me?”

“I, no. Even though it’d be totally understandable if I did. And you don’t know how bad it sucked. You don’t- There were so many things- You were my best friend, dude. And then you weren’t. It was hard. No, it was awful and lonely and depressing. I had no one to watch comic book movies with. I couldn’t tell anyone about how one of my professors reminded me of Mrs. Yarrow because no one would understand. I didn’t look for any crazy adventures to go on because I didn’t have anyone to share them. I, it _sucked_.”

“Yeah,” Scott says contritely. “Will you- I want to be friends again.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“Not easy, but possible?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“I can work with that.”

“Scott.”

“Nope, you said maybe.” Scott smiles. “I’m going to go. See you later.” Scott heads off.

“Scott, maybe doesn’t mean yes,” Stiles calls after him.

Scott doesn’t turn around, just gives him a dorky thumbs-up gesture.

~~~

Over the next few days, he gets visits from people in the pack and a lot of apologies. Heartfelt and sincere ones, like the sweet one from Allison or the blunt one from Boyd. A very straight forward one from Danny. A grudging, yet genuine one from Jackson. One that’s half almost-threat from Erica. One that’s buried in a flood of information catching him up with what’s happen to the pack since he’s been gone from Lydia. And one that comes in the form of all the times they missed Stiles or all the times things could have gone better with him there from Isaac. Stiles wonders if Peter hadn’t gone off to find his own way if Stiles would’ve gotten an apology from him.

Stiles takes it all in, knowing that he can forgive them, knowing that it would be better for him if he can bring himself to because he doesn’t want to be bitter or resentful or angry. It’s not the forgiveness that’s the problem though. It’s that a lot of people assume that forgiveness fixes everything. It doesn’t. You can forgive and still not trust. Trust has to be rebuilt and he’s not sure he’s ready for that.

~~~

It’s not all fun and games, being a new father. Stiles gets tired and frustrated. He wonders if he did the right thing, if maybe Ryan would be better off with someone else. Some days, it feels like every piece of clothing he owns is stained with spit-up. Ryan takes forever to get used to his new crib (okay, it’s only a few days, but they are very long ones, making Stiles want to join Ryan in his crying). There are a lot of things Stiles wishes he could ask his mom, making him miss her more. Sometimes, Stiles feels weirdly resentful about how much time his dad has for Ryan and then feels terrible about feeling resentful. And, of course, there’s the diapers – changing them, buying them, disposing of them.

But the good outweighs the bad. Ryan really enjoys baths. He likes to blow spit bubbles. Stiles learns how very much Ryan doesn’t like the smell of asparagus when Stiles cooks some for dinner for him and his dad one night and Ryan make the most hilarious disgusted expressions ever. Ryan loves to play with his toes and will kick off any socks. He does this weird sniffy thing that Stiles thinks is allergies or a cold or something, but when he takes him to the pediatrician, it turns out that it’s just something that he does. Ryan has a very cute grumpy face. And finding his dad asleep on the recliner with Ryan asleep on his chest possibly one of the most adorable things he’s ever seen.

And then there’s the weird. Stiles dials the number he got from Scott and fidgets, hoping it doesn’t go to voicemail.

“Hello,” Derek answers.

“Oh, good, you’re there,” Stiles says, still feeling stupidly panicked.

“Stiles? What’s wrong? Is somebody there?” Derek asks, sounding like he’s just gone on alert.

“Oh, no, nothing like that. It’s just, Ryan’s pediatrician’s on vacation and I left a message for Marina and she hasn’t gotten back to me, though, really, it’s only been, like, half an hour. I just-“

“Who’s Marina?”

“Um, Ryan’s mother.”

There’s silence from Derek’s end.

“Derek?”

“You’re in touch with her?” Derek asks, his words clipped.

“Yeah, you know, just in case. Anyway, Ryan’s eyes are glowing. And they’re _red_. What’s going on? What does it mean? Oh God, is it something to do with you or another alpha? He’s not-“

“Stiles, it just means he has alpha potential. It will go away after a few hours.”

“Alpha potential? What does that mean? I thought anyone could be an alpha.”

“They can. But those with alpha potential don’t have to defeat another alpha to become one.”

“Oh. So, like Laura?”

“Yes. If he’s accepted into a pack, Ryan could become the next alpha of the pack. Or if he’s powerful enough, when he’s older, he could start a pack of his own.”

“Huh. A few hours then?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Um, thanks. Sorry to bother you.”

“It’s fine.”

“Okay. Bye.”

“Call if you need to. Goodbye.”

Stiles looks at his phone after disconnecting. Yep, definitely weird. Derek had answered his questions and even provided extra information _and_ had given Stiles the okay to bother him again. Stiles looks at Ryan and holds a finger up. “Hey, no starting a new pack without telling me first and please don’t make it out of teenagers.”

~~~

People from the pack keep stopping by, sometimes two or three at a time, but never more than three. Stiles figures it’s a bid not to overwhelm him. He only lets them in if Ryan is sleeping or if he can hand him to his dad. It’s not that he thinks any of them would hurt Ryan. Part of it is that he doesn’t want Ryan to get used to them and then have them go away. It takes a while to realize that the other part is actually werewolf related. Because he’s father to a werewolf, effectively Ryan’s pack, he has some of the protective instincts and he doesn’t want people from another pack around him. Marina tells him it’s natural and that if he accepts the pack as allies or more, the urge to keep them from the baby will go away. And although he knows that they all want to see Ryan, nobody pushes him on it.

People from the pack also keep inviting him out. Derek even extends a couple of invitations for group activities. Stiles hasn’t said yes, yet. His dad is a bit wary about his reestablished contact with the pack, but he doesn’t seem unhappy or disapproving of it. There’s maybe a small part of Stiles that wishes that he was, so that he could have that as a excuse.

It gets easier. Conversations aren’t so stilted. It isn’t as awkward when someone says something about a time Stiles wasn’t there. Strangely, it’s hardest with Scott. Stiles thinks it’s because they were friends for so long that he never expected anything to change that and it was devastating when it happened. Which was stupid - people, friends drift away from each other all the time.

Stiles finally accepts an invitation to a movie night. It’s kind of a mistake because it’s the first time he’s been away from Ryan for this long and he starts feeling anxious about it after an hour. And it doesn’t help that everyone’s being really polite and trying to cater to his every whim. It’s like the Stepford Pack. Stiles ends up leaving early to a lot of disappointed faces.

~~~

Derek calls the next day and asks if he can come over. Stiles is a little surprised. Derek hadn’t been over since that first time. Stiles agrees and tells him to come over around one-thirty in the afternoon, since Ryan usually goes down for a nap around one. Ryan actually falls asleep early and when Derek shows up on time, Stiles is kind of expecting Ryan to wake up any minute. Stiles invites Derek in anyway.

“I thought we should talk,” Derek says.

Stiles eyebrows shoot up.

“Boyd thought I should talk to you and make things clear,” Derek amends.

“Ah.”

“And Lydia said I should be explicit, so there aren’t any misunderstandings.”

“Uh, okay. So, you actually listen to your pack now?” Stiles cringes when the question just slips out.

“Sometimes,” Derek says mildly.

“So, you’re here to talk about something. Explicitly. God, you don’t want, like, details about Ryan’s conception do you? Because I know sharing is caring and all, but that’s taking it a little too far. Besides-“

“No.”

“-I don’t remember it really, it- Oh, wait, you said no there, didn’t you? Sorry.”

“What do you mean you don’t remember?”

Crap, why did he say that? Stiles takes a deep breath and tries to calm his racing heartbeat. “I thought you didn’t want to know.” 

Derek looks conflicted. “I- Fine. Look, I, _we_ want you in the pack.”

“Because of Ryan.”

“No, because of you.”

“Suddenly you want me in your pack and it has nothing to do with the fact that I have a born werewolf son?”

“A born werewolf child can be good for the pack, yes. Any child of the pack is a blessing. But if it was just you, I’d still be here. If you don’t want him involved in the pack, I’m not sure how that would work, but we could figure out something. We want _you_ in the pack. And we want Ryan in the pack because he’s yours.”

“Do Boyd and Lydia have something _on_ you? Are they blackmailing you?”

“What?”

“That’s more words than I’ve heard you say in _ever_. And they were about _feelings_. Are you possessed?”

“This is… important.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“That doesn’t usually stop you.”

“Oh, ha, ha. And what happens if my herbal supplement stops working? Or what if Ryan’s a trouble magnet? Do we just get shown the door?”

“No! No. I made a bad decision. I thought I was doing the right thing. For you. But I was wrong. I won’t, nothing like that will happen again.”

Wow, that’s, wow. Derek admitting he was wrong. Stiles sort of wants to say yes, just as a reward, and how messed up is that? Maybe if it was just him, maybe if he was the only one that could get hurt, but there’s Ryan. There’s also his dad to think about. “I want to believe that, but…”

“You can’t, yet.”

“No.”

A cry comes from the baby monitor and they both look over at it. Derek says, “I’ll go.”

Stiles holds up a hand. “Wait, I’ll be back in a minute.” He goes upstairs and Ryan is wide awake and fussing. Stiles checks his diaper and it doesn’t need changing. He picks Ryan up and he immediately settles down. Stiles takes a deep breath and then heads downstairs. Derek is still there, waiting. He looks a little startled when he sees Stiles carrying Ryan. Stiles heads over to Derek and stops about a foot from him. “Ryan, this is Derek, Derek this is Ryan.”

Derek looks down at Ryan and his face just goes soft and he has a little close-mouthed smile.

Ryan looks up at him, waves an arm around and makes a little screeching noise.

Stiles says, “That means pleased to meet you. Well, actually, it means bounce me.” And Stiles starts a gentle bouncing motion.

Derek doesn’t say anything, staring down at Ryan as if transfixed.

Stiles lets Derek hang out until Ryan gets squirmy and starts fussing again. After Derek leaves and Ryan is greedily sucking on a bottle, Stiles tells him, “You know, if we join up, you’ll have the alpha wrapped around your little finger.”

~~~

Stiles lets the others meet Ryan after that, having apparently accepted the pack as something that Ryan doesn’t need protection from. And then they start coming over as a group. It still takes a while to let any of them hold him. Jackson’s surprisingly good with him. Scott’s always been pretty good with kids and animals. Isaac holds him very gingerly, like he’s afraid Ryan might break at the slightest movement. Erica is fairly indifferent, okay holding him, okay giving him back. Danny is much like Erica, although he occasionally likes to play with Ryan when someone else is holding him. Lydia’s excellent with him, but only in small intervals. Boyd is does pretty well, Ryan almost always falling asleep on him. Allison is great with him and loves to feed him. And Derek, well, sometimes Stiles is convinced Derek and Ryan are communicating telepathically with the way they stare at each other.

One night, when everyone is over, Lydia asks about Ryan’s mother and Stiles feels everyone’s eyes on him. He tells her that Ryan’s got Marina’s eyes. When Lydia asks about their relationship, Stiles doesn’t know exactly what his expression does, but Lydia quickly changes the subject. Even after they’ve moved on to other things, though, Stiles can tell that Derek’s still watching him.

His dad seems more comfortable around the pack, especially now that Stiles allows them near Ryan. Stiles talks to his dad about the possibility of joining the pack. His dad says he’ll understand and support Stiles no matter what Stiles decides because he believes that Stiles will do what’s best for himself and Ryan. Which is good to hear, but not particularly helpful in making a decision.

Derek shows up a lot, now. At first, Stiles thought it was because of Ryan. Not that Derek doesn’t still seem fascinated with Ryan, but he sticks around even when Ryan’s asleep. He doesn’t talk all that much, still not much of a fan of words. He doesn’t seem to mind listening to Stiles, though. Derek actually, maybe, even seems to sort of like it. Which simultaneously weirds Stiles out and makes him feel all warm and squishy inside.

As the summer wears on, Stiles starts planning for school. He’ll probably need some kind of child care, even if it’s only a few hours a day, while he does the online classes and homework. His dad thinks they could probably handle it between the two of them, but Stiles thinks it will be less stressful with a little help. Stiles makes a list of needs and preferences for a babysitter, plus some notes on his class schedule. He wonders if maybe someone from the pack could do it. Lydia, Jackson, Danny, Allison, and Boyd are also doing the college thing. Scott and Isaac have full time jobs. Erica’s only doing part-time work, but Stiles isn’t sure if she’d want to or not. And then there’s Derek. Except asking Derek would be a step closer to being part of the pack. A big step. One he’s not sure he wants to take. It turns out that it doesn’t matter because when Derek sees the list, he abruptly leaves.

~~~

Three days later, after not being around at all, Derek shows up again just after Stiles has put Ryan down for a nap. Stiles would think it’s a coincidence, but he gets the feeling that Derek was lurking, waiting for it, which takes him back. At least Derek doesn’t just appear out of nowhere.

“When I found out about you, about the way you stand out, I was relieved,” Derek says, like they were in the middle of a conversation.

Stiles blinks and says, “Okay.”

“My attention was always drawn to you. Even when you weren’t talking, although that wasn’t that often. And I worried about you. I couldn’t figure it out.”

“It’s always good to have an explanation,” Stiles offers. “And even though you said you didn’t want me gone, it must also have been a relief when you didn’t have to focus on me or worry about me.”

Derek grimaces. “It wasn’t a relief.” He shakes his head. “I know you’re not part of pack, but if you’re ever in any trouble, call and we’ll be there.”

“What? What do you mean it wasn’t a relief? And why did that sound like a goodbye?”

“You’re going back to school.”

“Well, yeah. I mean, I thought about taking time off, but, well, I wasn’t sure if I’d go back any time soon if I did that. Plus, there are insurance and scholarship issues. I’m only taking the minimum number of hours to be full-time and we’ll see how it goes. But what does that have to do with anything? No, wait, first tell me why it wasn’t a relief.”

“It didn’t matter that you were gone. And your herbal supplement doesn’t matter, either. You’re still a beacon.”

Stiles is confused. “What do you mean it doesn’t matter? I tested it. And, seriously, my aura or whatever has no effect over that distance.”

“For _me_. You’re still a beacon for me, no matter how far away you go,” Derek says through clenched teeth.

And something pings for Stiles then. “School. You think I’m going- I transferred. The campus isn’t that far away and I should only have to go there occasionally since I’ll be doing online classes. I’m staying here.”

Derek looks almost embarrassed.

Stiles is pretty sure Derek is going to try to backpedal so he speaks first, “Oh, no. No take-backs. You totally said that.”

“I-“

“Okay, I’m just barely refraining from breaking into a rendition of ‘You Light Up My Life’, so be grateful. Not that I’m not a decent singer. Ask Ryan. I rock at ‘Wheels on the Bus’.”

Derek’s lips actually twitch at that.

Stiles babbles on, unable to help himself, freaking out about Derek’s revelation and freaking out because he’s freaking out. “I’m pretty good at ‘This Old Man’, too. Let me tell you there are some whacked out kid songs out there, seriously. There’s lots of animal songs that are strangely violent and I-“

“Stiles.”

“What?”

“What’s wrong?”

“What do you mean what’s wrong? Nothing’s wrong. I just went off on a tangent. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I tend to do that sometimes. It’s-“

“Stiles. Your heart rate has gone up and you’re breathing faster. You’re nervous or… afraid, why?”

“I just. What do you want from me?”

“For you to be part of the pack.”

“No, I mean, what do _you_ , Derek, not the alpha, what do you want from me?”

“I want a lot.”

And Stiles is hyperventilating, sinking to the floor. If he wasn’t so busy trying to breathe, the sight of Derek hovering over him all _flustered_ like he never is, would have made Stiles smile. Derek gets ahold of himself and then sits down next to Stiles and helps Stiles calm down. After Stiles is breathing normally, they sit there in silence. Derek doesn’t ask and that’s maybe why Stiles can tell him. Stiles haltingly gets out the story about the witches and their spell. Derek is quiet for a long time.

“I want a lot, but never anything you don’t want, too,” Derek says finally.

Stiles doesn’t know what to say to that and it doesn’t matter because Derek perks and looks up and then a second later, Ryan’s cry issues from the baby monitor. Stiles gets up and moves toward the stairs, but Derek stops him and says, “I can get him.”

Stiles nods and goes over to the couch to sit down. 

Derek goes up and is back down a minute later. He’s holding Ryan and making a noise halfway between a rumble and a hum. Ryan is doing his sniffy thing. It’s almost unbearably cute.

Stiles makes a decision. “Um, I know you’re working on your house and Scott says you do something with investments, but I was wondering how you felt about maybe taking on another job, like maybe babysitting.”

Derek looks up at him in surprise. Then he says, “Yes,” quickly, emphatically.

“Oh, but I didn’t tell you what would be involved. It would be for a few hours a day on weekdays, just, you know, so I could concentrate on classes. Maybe a full day, here and there. I can pay-“

“Yes, whatever’s involved,” Derek says.

“Hey, now, maybe I was going to say I can pay you in, like, cookies or something, you don’t know.”

“Make it home-cooked meals and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

“Well, sure, I can feed you, but I can pay you in, like, actual money.”

“I don’t need, like, actual money. I’ve got plenty.”

“But-“

“If it makes you feel better, spend whatever money you’ve allotted on food and make extra. The pack eats a lot.”

“I guess I could do that.”

“Then it’s settled.”

~~~

Derek works out well as Ryan’s babysitter. He’s maybe a little bit of a pushover on some things, but Ryan thrives. And Ryan is good for Derek, too. Derek is a little more open, a little softer for being around him. It’s a little hard for Stiles to give up time with Ryan, even if it’s only a few hours, but he thinks it’s a good thing that he isn’t completely wrapped up in Ryan.

It’s not long after Derek starts babysitting that Stiles officially becomes part of the pack, along with Ryan and, actually, his dad, too. He’s still a little tentative with the others in ways he wasn’t before, but he figures that will get better in time. It takes a little longer for Stiles to decide he wants to try for a relationship with Derek. There’s a few false starts and Stiles almost gives up the whole thing as too complicated, but he doesn’t and things finally click. Derek, it seems, can be very patient when he wants to be. And Stiles’ dad even seems to approve of their relationship after a while.

Stiles is finally happy after so long being miserable. And maybe he gets a little anxious, sometimes, expecting something to horrible to happen, but it doesn’t happen that often and he’s got so many people around him willing to reassure him. He’s got his pack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you’re curious, this [is what Marina looks like](http://www.imdb.com/media/rm1972797696/nm2057726) in my mind.


	40. A Lot More to This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Prompt](http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/6131.html?thread=4717299#t4717299): Derek/Stiles: Stiles is Derek's good luck charm  
>  Obviously, Derek has a shit life. Bad things happen around and to him all the time, hunters, mosters, alpha werewolves, his own pack, the list goes on. The only odd thing about this is that even though all these shit situations happen to him, he gets out of them okay mostly thanks to Stiles. All his near death experiences are thwarted by Stiles! He should pretty much be dead 10x over by now but this pesky, perky little human just keeps saving his ass all the time and it's mind blowing to Derek. Once he figures this out that is. Then, Stiles better watch out, cuz Derek's not going into any situation without him anymore, Scott be damned. Seriously, Stiles is Derek's good luck charm.  
> Can be gen to porn. Though I like me some porn. =D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Found a couple of extra prompt ficlets that didn't get posted.

“So, why am I here again?” Stiles asks as he follows Derek through the old house, flinching when he walks into a cobweb and batting it away from his face.

“Because,” Derek says.

“That’s not an answer. That is, in fact, a _non-answer_. The only thing that would be more of a non-answer is ‘Why not?’”

“Why not?”

“Oh my God. Seriously? Oh, you’re just messing with me. I saw that – where that one side of your mouth curled up, like, half a millimeter.”

Derek rolls his eyes.

Stiles spies something in the doorway that Derek’s about to go through. “Wait. Stop!”

To Stiles unending surprise, Derek does. He doesn’t look very happy about it, but he does. Stiles points at the tripwire stretched across the doorway that’s only barely visible from his angle. Derek pushes him over to the side of the doorway and into a crouch. Then Derek positions himself in a crouch on the other side and reaches for the wire.

Stiles holds up a finger. “Um…”

Derek pauses and looks at him.

“Just, I kind of promised Scott that if I came across a tripwire, I wouldn’t, you know, trip it.”

“ _You_ aren’t.”

Well, that’s true enough. Derek seems to be waiting for some sort of acknowledgement, though. Stiles wonders if he’d back off of it if Stiles persisted, but he honestly wants to know what will happen, too. So Stiles gives a nod and Derek trips the wire. 

Darts, which seem to come out of nowhere, fly through the doorway and embed themselves in the wall behind them. They would have hit Derek about mid-chest if he’d just walked through the doorway. Derek gets up and goes to the wall. He gingerly pulls one of the darts free. Then he jerks his head at Stiles in a let’s-go gesture and heads back the way they came. 

Stiles chases after him. “Wait, aren’t we going to keep going?”

“No need.”

“What about whatever we came in here for?”

“Got it.”

“What, the dart? You were expecting that? Wait, no, you weren’t, you almost walked right into it. I don’t understand.”

“There were signs that a goblin was squatting here. I just wanted to know if it knew there were werewolves here,” Derek explains with a pained expression, like it literally hurts to say more that a few words at a time.

“Uh-huh. And?”

Derek holds up the dart. “Its tip is coated in wolf’s bane.”

“Ah. So, the answer is yes.”

“Yes.”

“And now what?”

“Nothing.”

Stiles flails a little at that. “Nothing? What do you mean nothing?”

Derek sighs. “They’re skittish. Once it smells werewolf and sees that its… security measure has been triggered, it’ll leave.”

“Really?”

Derek nods.

“Okay then. So, why did I need to be here?”

Derek doesn’t answer as they exit the house.

~~~

Stiles is half asleep as he’s dumped in the passenger seat of the Camaro. It’s two thirty in the morning and he’d been soundly sleeping when Derek had woken him and sort of hounded him into getting dressed (okay, Derek had told him to get up and get dressed and then stood there staring at him until he did, but it was a hounding stare). Then Derek had maneuvered him out the window (Stiles isn’t quite sure how he’d managed that). Stiles wants to ask Derek all sorts of questions (Where are we going? Why? Did you watch me getting dressed? Do you ever sleep? How is it that, no matter what time it is, your stubble is always the same length – is it a werewolf thing?) as they drive, but Stiles had only gotten to sleep a couple of hours ago after being awake for almost two days. Stiles falls back asleep to the strangely comforting sound of the motor.

Stiles wakes up in his own bed. He wonders if that whole thing with Derek had been a dream. He’s wearing jeans and not the sleep pants he’d worn to bed, but that doesn’t mean all that much, he’s done some weird stuff when sleep deprived – getting up, getting dressed, and going back to sleep wouldn’t even make the top ten. He wriggles clumsily out of the jeans and kicks them out of the bed. He rolls over and goes back to sleep, glad it’s Saturday.

~~~

Derek is dragging Stiles through the woods by the wrist. Derek isn’t moving super fast, but it’s clear this isn’t a meandering walk through the woods. Not that Derek would necessarily want to take a meandering walk with Stiles. Stiles doesn’t know why he’s here. He’s also not sure how Derek had tracked him down at the diner he’d been at. Maybe Derek had actually _tracked_ him. Stiles is trying to come up with a really clever bloodhound joke, when Derek stops and does… something – listens, smells, sees – Stiles can’t quite tell. Derek turns, looking indecisive.

“So, what are we looking for?”

“There’s a leprechaun.”

“A leprechaun. For real? Like, an actual little dude who wears green and likes his Lucky Charms?”

Derek gives him an unamused look.

“Okay, yeah, they probably don’t care about marshmallowy cereal goodness, but, um, what about the gold thing? Is any of that true?”

“Sort of. They tend to be drawn to shiny metals.”

“Are we close to Bailey’s Bluff?”

Derek frowns. “It’s about a quarter of a mile away.”

“There are some iron pyrite deposits to the, um, east. Scott and I used to pretend we were pirates and that- Wow, so not important. Maybe this leprechaun will be near there.”

Derek thinks about that and nods. He starts moving again, towing Stiles along. They get there pretty quickly and he was right. Jesus, leprechauns are _small_. The dude’s maybe a little taller than a GI Joe, maybe. Stiles briefly wonders if any of his kind ever bought a Barbie Dream House because if he was that size and he had money (or gold), he totally would. Then the most bizarre thing Stiles has ever witnessed happens – Derek being cordial. Their little chat ends with some polite well wishes on both sides and then Derek’s pulling Stiles along again.

After a few minutes of walking back the way they came, Stiles finally speaks up, “If I hadn’t been there, I wouldn’t have believed it.”

“What?”

“See, I thought werewolf negotiations with other supernatural beings began and ended with teeth and fangs and ‘Rawr’.”

“We save that for the lucky ones,” Derek says dryly.

“Ha. But, yeah, that was weird. You were all _nice_.”

“Leprechauns have powerful magic. It’s best not to get on their bad sides.”

“Okay, but, you know, there are some other situations where you could put those, uh, _manners_ to use, just saying.”

Derek gives a grunt, but it’s totally a contemplative grunt, so Stiles counts it as a win.

~~~

They’re having a meeting and everyone is debating (squabbling) over who should go with Derek when he meets with the hunters to discuss a truce, an accord, or whatever you would call it when all parties involved agree not to maim or kill each other unnecessarily.

“Stiles is going with me,” Derek says adamantly, his voice cutting through all of the arguing.

Jackson rolls his eyes. Scott seems a little confused. Boyd seems resigned. Lydia looks fairly indifferent, maybe even a little bored (Stiles can’t tell if it’s a pretense or not). Isaac looks at Derek calculatingly. Peter just seems amused, but, really, when doesn’t he? Erica seems like she wants to argue, but doesn’t. They’ve all gotten better at not doing that – jumping at the chance to argue just for the sake of arguing (something Stiles has maybe been guilty of, a time or two).

Stiles gives Derek a glare and says, “Uh, no, Stiles isn’t. Remember last time Stiles was in the company of hunters. He was kidnapped and beaten as a message. So, no thank you.”

Derek looks at him. “Then I’m not going.”

The room erupts in loud objections. Stiles studies Derek to see if he’s serious and, yes, he really seems to mean it.

Stiles sighs. “Fine, I’ll go.”

“Good,” Derek says.

Everyone settles down and the meeting moves on to other topics. When the meeting ends and everyone starts leaving, Derek catches Stiles before he goes. “They won’t touch you,” Derek says quietly.

“Yeah, yeah,” Stiles says, hoping that if he pretends hard enough that he’s fine with it, he’ll actually _be_ fine with it.

Derek looks intently at him. “Stiles, I won’t let any of them touch you,” he says, still quiet, but something almost fierce in his voice.

Stiles looks at him, blinking. “Okay, I-“ Stiles pauses not sure if he wants to say ‘I believe you’ or ‘I trust you’. Both are true, but he decides not to say either. It would make this moment too big, too significant. “Okay.”

Derek slowly nods and from the look on his face, Stiles is pretty sure Derek heard what he didn’t say.

~~~

It happens again and again – Derek taking (dragging) Stiles along with him. Sometimes there is an explanation, many times there isn’t one. Stiles finally just flat out refuses to go with Derek. Derek is persistent, but Stiles can out-stubborn anyone and eventually Derek goes without him. But it only happens the once. Because Derek goes missing for two days, days the pack spends worrying and searching for him. And when Derek turns up again, his clothes are torn and bloody and he’s as stone-faced as ever, but the look in his eyes is bleak and haunted. Stiles doesn’t refuse again.

~~~

It takes Stiles a while to work up to asking. It’s always easier to get Derek to confirm or correct whatever theory Stiles comes up with than to try to get him to answer any kind of open ended question comprehensively. Sometimes it’s just so frustrating. Stiles gets that Derek is not a very communicative person, but sometimes you have to actually _tell_ people things. Stiles isn’t always that good at sharing the important stuff with other people, either. A lot of the time he will talk around whatever it is and hope that whoever he’s talking to figures it out.

They’re on the way back from checking out a possible haunting (turns out it was just some weird confluence of things that led to infrasound, which Stiles maybe kind of geeked out about – whatever, it’s an actual scientific phenomena that can make you see and feel really weird things without, you know, narcotic assistance). Stiles looks at Derek as he drives. He’s not irritated or frustrated or exasperated (all very common around Stiles – what can he say, it’s a gift), in fact, Derek seems almost content.

“Are you, like, grooming me to be your second?” Stiles blurts out.

Derek gives him a brief startled look before returning his attention back to the road. “What?”

“You keep bringing me along with you. No, not just bringing me, making me come with you. To meetings with hunters, to check out reports of weird happenings, to see other supernatural things. Sometimes you also bring other people, but mostly it’s just me. And I can’t figure out why. So, I thought, maybe, since you were, I don’t know, showing me all these things, it was a kind of training or something. I mean, I know that, as a human, I couldn’t be your head beta or anything, but I thought you were teaching me what to do, you know, just in case you couldn’t do it.”

“No. But not a bad idea.”

Stiles waits for something else, but sighs after a minute. “Would you like to elaborate?”

“No.”

Stiles is about to start ranting about stupid, stoic werewolves when he catches the slight quirk of Derek’s mouth. “Okay, funny guy, please explain.”

“The pack listens to you.”

“And?”

“And nothing. The important parts of being a second are knowing what to do and getting the pack to do it.”

“Well, yeah, I guess.”

“Okay. You’re second.”

“That’s it? Ta da, you declare it and so it is.”

“Yes.”

“Huh.” Stiles is a little hung up on all the implications of what just happened. “But, wait, what about werewolf-wise? I mean, if you, if it’s not temporary, if you’re, um-“

“Dead?”

Stiles swallows. “Yeah.”

“Who takes over the pack? Assuming I’m not killed by one of them or another werewolf?”

Stiles feels a little sick. “Yeah, assuming that.”

Derek’s expression goes solemn. “I don’t know.”

“What?” 

“If Scott has fully committed to the pack, it could be him. But Jackson is the first one I bit. And Isaac is the first one I turned. Then there’s Peter.”

“I’m guessing there isn’t a whole lot of precedent for what happens when a formerly dead alpha is part of your pack.”

“No.”

“What about Erica and Boyd?” Stiles asks, curious.

“If it happened right now? No, neither of them could be Alpha,” Derek says flatly.

“Because they left.”

Derek nods.

“But down the road?”

Derek shrugs. “Maybe. Any wolf can be an alpha. If the power isn’t _taken_ , then strength, pack ties, and leadership are all part of how the power is passed on.”

“Oh. That kind of makes sense. And if- Crap, totally got sidetracked there, we will come back to this later. I know you’re not very big on explanations, especially after you’ve already explained something else, but Derek, I really need to know why you need me on these trips. And you do. Need me, I mean. Or at least you seem to think so.”

Derek’s jaw works. He says nothing for a few minute and then he’s signaling and pulling off at a little scenic spot. Derek stops the car and turns it off. Then he just sits there. Stiles gets more antsy and more fidgety the longer they sit there in silence. He’s about to give up and get out of the car just to have something to do when Derek speaks, “I stepped in a bear trap once, while out inspecting our property. It took me a while to think past the pain and get it off.”

“Wow, that sucks, but-“

“There was a griffin who nearly took my head off because it took exception to me.”

“A griffin, but I thought they were usually friendly. Or at least not hostile.”

“Not this one. I got cursed blind for a week by a witch because she mistook me for another wolf. A pixie that I asked to leave shrunk me down to a quarter-inch. I fought off bugs for hours until she got bored. Then there was Kate.”

“I-“

“Other stuff happened when we left. A misunderstanding with hunters, a thing with a sinkhole, a run-in with a chimera that ended… badly. Then Laura came back.”

“Jesus, that’s, wow. So, what you’re saying is that you’re the unluckiest dude ever?”

“But then I got shot with a wolf’s bane bullet and somehow I didn’t die. The alpha nearly tore me apart, but I was able to get away and recover. I didn’t get caught by the police or hunters even though they were both after me. Peter didn’t kill me when he revealed himself, even though that would have been the smart thing to do. I was able to take him down and become an alpha.”

“Yes, strangely, I remember all that, since I was, you know, there.”

“Exactly.”

“Huh?”

“Isaac didn’t get killed. I didn’t drown. Matt didn’t kill me at the station. The kanima didn’t kill us.”

“I’m lost.”

“Bad things have always happened to me. You being around seems to make them not quite so bad.”

“So, what? I’m like a rabbit’s foot? Some sort of talisman?”

“Yes.”

“I- You can’t really- That’s ridiculous.”

“Maybe. But it’s true.”

“I don’t know, those things still seem pretty bad.”

“Trust me, not anywhere as bad as they could be.”

“So, I’m just a your good luck charm?”

“Stiles, you’re never _just_ anything.”

Stiles grunts. Hey, if it’s good enough for Derek, it’s good enough for him. Stiles doesn’t say much on the rest of the ride home. Derek keeps darting these little glances at him, probably wondering why he isn’t talking. For once, Stiles doesn’t have anything to say. Stiles had had a lucky pen once. He doesn’t know where it is because after he’d realized that it wasn’t really all that lucky, he hadn’t cared what happened to it.

~~~

Stiles still goes with Derek because at least he’s of some use. He doesn’t even ask for explanations anymore. Weirdly, though, Derek just starts offering them up. Stiles doesn’t ask why. Sometimes the explanations are pretty boring and sometimes they’re just so very, very strange. Stiles listens dutifully to them all and tries to be a good talisman – there to be there and not for anything else.

~~~

“What are you doing?” Derek suddenly barks out.

Stiles looks up at Derek in surprise from his perch on a stump off to the side of where Derek had been talking to a witch. He’d just been picking at his fingernails and wondering if he’ll get home in time to do some gaming before bed. The witch is gone and Derek is glowering down at him. “Nothing.”

“Why?”

“Was I supposed to be doing something?” Stiles asks, confused.

Derek huffs out an exasperated breath. “You’re not acting like you.”

Stiles stands up and dusts his pants off. “Well, sorry, I’m just trying to be a good little lucky charm. A nice unobtrusive object that keeps you safe just by being in the vicinity. That’s what I’m here for.”

“That’s not- I told you, that’s not all that you are.”

“Uh-huh,” Stiles says, not believing him at all. “Can we go?”

Derek looks angrier than Stiles has seen in a while. He stalks toward Stiles and Stiles backs up until he backs right into a big tree, the trunk wider than him. Derek cages him in with his arms. “Do you know why you’re my lucky charm?” Derek growls out.

As always, when Stiles is nervous, his sarcasm comes to the fore. “I’m magically delicious?”

Derek blinks at him, looking bewildered. He shakes his head and says, “Because you’re you. It’s not just because you’re there. It’s because you do the stuff that you do. You talk and distract and catch attention. You swim or drive your jeep or figure things out. You do anything and everything that you can to make things turn out okay.”

“Oh,” Stiles says weakly, unable to look away from Derek’s gaze.

“You’re not a werewolf. You don’t have our physical strength, but you are strong. You don’t have our teeth and claws, but you are vicious. You don’t have our healing, but every time you get knocked down, you get up again,” Derek says softly, so close, his breath hot on Stiles’ face.

Stiles’ heart is racing. “Me?” he asks, his voice breathy. He’s asking all kinds of things with that one word, hoping that Derek can hear them all.

And, apparently, Derek can because then Derek is kissing him. Stiles wraps his arms around Derek, as tightly as he can. He feels dizzy with nerves and joy and _want_. He moans into the kiss as Derek takes it deeper. Jesus, Stiles never wants him to stop. But then Derek groans and pulls his head back, resting his forehead against Stiles’ shoulder. “Give me a second,” Derek grits out. 

Stiles frowns because what? And, oh, Derek’s hard. Hard and his whole body’s tense like he could go off at the least little thing. Stiles thinks that’s really kind of hot and wonders what would happen if he shifted his hips just a smidge, just enough to brush against Derek. Awesomely, it makes Derek shudder, so Stiles does it again. And suddenly, they’re in a frenzy, rubbing against each other. Stiles takes a second to be grateful he’s got three layers between him and the bark of the tree at his back before he can’t think about anything else but this. Derek is nipping at his neck and Stiles is clutching at Derek’s jacket as they rut against each other. It’s not long before Derek freezes and makes this amazing half-moan, half-growl noise. Stiles pushes up against Derek a few more times before he’s coming, too (his noise is a little more on the strangled cat side). Stiles is glad that he is between Derek and the tree otherwise he’d have fallen to the ground in a daze because wow.

After a minute or so, Derek pulls back. He looks Stiles up and down and Stiles shivers a little. And then Stiles shivers again when Derek’s nostrils flare, obviously scenting him, scenting them. Derek meets Stiles’ eyes and says very deliberately, “You.”

Stiles smiles and then shifts uncomfortably because the come in his boxers now feels gross. “Maybe next time we could do this sans pants. And like indoors. With a bed.”

“Hmm.”

“Or maybe in a clearing, on a blanket over soft grass, under the full moon,” Stiles says slyly, watching Derek for his reaction.

Derek inhales sharply. “We could do that,” he says, his voice a little rough.

“Still sans pants, though.”

Derek gives a little snort.

“So, uh, am I?”

“Are you what?”

“Magically delicious?”

“I’ll let you know.”

Stiles gives Derek a quizzical look.

“Haven’t tasted all of you. Yet.”

Stiles goes a little breathless at that. “Uh, good point.”


	41. Multiple Levels of Interpretation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Prompt](http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/6131.html?thread=5191411#t5191411): Derek/Stiles, Stiles gave Derek a stuffed wolf when they were kids  
>  Inspired by another prompt on this meme, but without all of the other stuff involved in the prompt.  
> Just, when Stiles was little he gave teenage!Derek a stuffed wolf as a gift. All these years later, Derek still has it.

Derek is sulking on a bench near the midway. He doesn’t want to be here. His whole family is here at this stupid little fair, off having fun. He doesn’t know why his parents made him come. He just wants to be left alone. And if Laura mentions teenage angst one more time, well, he doesn’t know what he’ll do, but it won’t be pretty. At least Uncle Peter kind of understood – herded everyone else off and let Derek stay on his own. 

Derek’s been trying to block out all the noises around him and it’s been working for the most part, but there’s this one high-pitched voice that won’t stop, it just keeps going. Eventually, Derek has to look up to find it’s source, wondering why whoever it belongs to hasn’t needed to stop and take a breath. There’s a boy, sort of hopping around a woman, holding a stuffed animal of some sort and chattering all about how his dad won it for him. Derek catches a glimpse of the boy’s bright eyes and blinks. In the sunlight, his eyes are almost like the glow of a bitten beta wolf. The woman has almost the same colored eyes and they both have the same dark hair, but even if they didn’t look so much alike, Derek would think she was the boy’s mother just from the fond expression on her face as she listens to him.

The woman looks around and gently interrupts the boy and tells him they’ll wait here for his father. The boy nods and then is off on another flood of words, this time about something amazing he’d learned about in school. Derek wishes he had even a quarter of this kid’s enthusiasm for school. Derek’s only been in high school a couple of weeks and he _hates_ it. It’s so much worse than middle school. Bigger, more people, _louder_ , so many more kids wearing noxious perfumes and colognes, it gives him a headache just thinking about it. And teachers wanting him to participate and girls wanting to talk to him when he has no idea what to say. He scowls at the ground. He notices when the boy stops talking and he looks back up and starts back a little when he finds the boy right there in front of him.

“Hi,” the boy says brightly.

“Hey,” Derek mutters.

“Are you having a bad day?”

“I… yeah,” Derek says, not sure why he’s answering at all.

The boy nods. “It kind of,” the boy pauses and gives a quick look back to his mother, who is watching them from several feet away, and then whispers, “sucks,” before speaking louder again, “to be at a fun place and not feel like having fun.”

Derek gives a nod because it does. The stuffed animal is suddenly thrust at him. Derek fumbles with it, caught completely off-guard.

“You can have it. To feel better. Bye,” the boy says in a rush and then runs back over to his mother.

Derek looks up at her, bewildered, and she gives him a warm smile. He tries to return the smile, as is polite, but is pretty sure it’s turns out as more of a grimace than anything else. Then a tall blond man comes over and they all head off, the boy chattering away again. The boy turns and give Derek a wave and Derek lifts a hand in return before the trio disappears from sight.

Derek looks down at the stuffed animal in his hand. He gives a little laugh when he realizes it’s a wolf. It’s not very big and it has brown eyes and gray fur with white feet, chest, and muzzle. Weirdly, it does make him feel better. He gets up and goes to track down his family.

~~~

Derek is listening with half an ear as Stiles talks about something to do with a book they’re reading for school as he helps Derek unpack. Derek had finally gotten the rest of his stuff shipped to Beacon Hills. Sue him, it’s been an eventful few months and he hadn’t had time to do much of anything before except try to keep people from dying. Now that things have settled down (slightly), he’s found a place to live. It’s a house, isolated, very close to the woods and the Hale property line. It’s not that big, but it’s sturdy and has running water and electricity. Derek’s still not sure if he wants to rebuild his old house or just tear down the whole thing, but this will do for now.

The rest of the pack had been helping earlier, but most everyone had eventually gone to their respective homes (even Isaac, who just doesn’t spend that much time at his foster home). Stiles is the only one left. Stiles opens another box and starts to take things out, but then, all of a sudden, he just stops - stops talking, stops moving, just stops. Derek looks over at him in confusion and then Stiles is like a whirlwind, up and moving fast, grabbing his jacket and his bag and saying that he should get home. He’s out the door before Derek can say anything.

Derek goes over to the box and looks into it. Sitting there is a stuffed wolf. Memories of a talkative little boy with golden brown eyes at a fair come back to him. He huffs out a breath, a little shocked. Somehow, he’d never connected that boy with Stiles. Derek takes the wolf out of the box and studies it. His mouth quirks up in an almost involuntary smile. He takes the wolf to his bedroom and sets it on a shelf.

~~~

Stiles doesn’t say anything about the stuffed wolf the next time he comes over, so Derek doesn’t either. In fact, Derek sort of forgets about Stiles’ connection to it until a few weeks later. Stiles is watching over Derek so he doesn’t do anything stupid. Derek hasn’t got a clue what was in that potion that the witches had come up with, but he has never felt like this in his life. Stiles says it seems like Derek’s acting like he’s somewhere in between drunk and high. Never having been either, Derek doesn’t really know what to do. He vaguely wonders if Stiles volunteered to look after him or if the rest of the pack decided he should. He _is_ more likely to listen to Stiles.

Stiles had dumped Derek on his bed and then gone to fetch some water. Derek closes his eyes, but opens them when it feels like the bed is moving. The bed isn’t moving, but Derek feels almost like he’s floating. This is so weird. He feels like he’s not in control and yet not out of control.

Stiles walks in. “Hey, got you some water.” He holds up the bottle. Then his eyebrows go up as he looks at Derek. “You okay, dude?”

“Yes?” Derek says, but it comes out as more of a question than a statement.

Stiles snorts. “As long as you’re sure.” He sits down on the edge of the bed and hands Derek the bottle.

Derek takes the bottle and rolls it between his hands. The plastic makes a crackling sort of noise as he playing with it - it’s strangely fascinating. Stiles has a hand up to his mouth and Derek thinks he’s laughing at Derek behind it. Derek doesn’t much care. Then Stiles isn’t laughing. He’s looking at something on the bookshelf intently. He stands up and grabs something off the shelf before sitting back down on the bed. Now that he’s sitting, Derek can see the stuffed wolf he’s holding.

“I can’t believe you kept it,” Stiles says, his voice sounding a little odd.

“Laura really liked it. Wanted me to give it to her. I wouldn’t. She used to sneak in my room and take it, so I’d go and get it back. Then it became a game, she’d take it and hide it and I’d track it down. She’d hidden it in her car when the house, the fire- She didn’t even remember until we’d left town. We were able to get some things from the house after, but they always smelled a little like smoke. He never did,” Derek rambles. He doesn’t feel self-conscious or guarded. He doesn’t feel like the words are just there and he can’t get them out or like he’s going to say them in the wrong order or tone and mess everything up. He wonders if Stiles feels like this all the time.

Stiles lifts the stuffed animal to his nose and sniffs it, then lowers it back to his lap. “What does he smell like to you?”

“Like me. Like Laura. But beneath that it smells like funnel cake and cotton candy. Like the happy day I had at the fair with my family when I caught up with them after you gave it to me.”

Stiles makes a weird little noise.

“What?”

“I just, well, I think that’s how it would have smelled if I had kept it,” Stiles says sadly.

Stiles isn’t supposed to be sad. Derek tries to think of something else. “Underneath that, it smells a tiny bit like peaches.”

“My mom,” Stiles says, his voice catching. He clears his throat and starts again, “My mom had this body wash that smelled like peaches.”

“I like peaches.” Derek blinks. He’d meant to say something comforting, but that’s what came out.

Stiles looks down at him with a smile. “I kind of forgot that you’re wasted, dude. No wonder you’re in such a sharing mood.”

“I share things,” Derek says indignantly. Because he does. He just can’t think of anything right now.

“Uh huh. Why don’t you drink some water?”

That’s a good idea. Derek can’t quite get the bottle open, though. Stiles takes it from him, opens it and hands it back. Derek drains it and hands the bottle back to Stiles, feeling very tired. He lets his eyes close. He feels Stiles get up and then Derek feels him tuck something between Derek’s side and his arm. Derek reaches over with his other arm and his hand lands on the familiar furry softness of the stuffed wolf. He slips off to sleep.

~~~

They don’t talk about it. Derek’s fine with that. If a bit wary. Because Stiles likes to talk. Except, maybe, when something really matters, then he doesn’t seem to talk about it much at all.

~~~

Stiles is being very fidgety as Derek drives. Stiles still won’t tell anyone where they’re going. And Erica and Boyd, in the backseat, ask him every time he directs Derek to make a turn. Derek checks the rearview to make sure Scott, driving Isaac, Jackson, and Lydia, is still following them. Derek spies a sign up ahead and flashes a look at Stiles. Stiles gives a little shrug and soon they’re pulling into the dirt parking lot near the fair.

Jackson and Lydia both give Stiles disdainful looks when they get out of the car, but neither actually complains. And Erica, under her too-cool-for-this expression, seems giddy. Boyd looks at her and then gives Stiles a wide, warm smile. Scott is all excited and hugs Stiles, before dragging a bemused Isaac off. They all get their tickets and head off in different directions. Scott and Isaac go for the food booths. Jackson and Lydia head to the exhibition tent. Boyd and Erica go for the rides. Stiles heads off to the games and Derek follows him. 

Stiles seems to be scouting out the prizes as he walks down the row of game booths. He finally stops at the Frog Hop game, where you hit one end of a lever with a mallet to launch a rubber frog off the other end and try to land it on the raised lily pad platforms. Stiles spends almost twenty minutes launching frogs, but he does win a prize. The guy manning the booth asks what he wants and Stiles points at something. Derek is expecting maybe another wolf or even a frog, but instead the guy hands over a plush baseball player. Stiles comes over to Derek and shoves the doll at him much like he’d done with the wolf all those years ago. Derek takes it. He looks down at it, trying to figure out it’s significance.

“Too bad they didn’t have the any Mets ones. But, hey, it’s northern California, so, you know, Giants.”

“You like baseball?” Maybe that’s all it means.

“I do, yeah, but, uh, that’s not why I picked it. I mean, yeah, it was a lot better than that goofy looking fireman. I just thought your, um, the wolf could use some company.”

“So, you got it a baseball player.” Derek thinks he’s probably missing something.

Stiles grimaces a little and then says quietly, “A human. I got it a-“ and he breaks off, red tingeing his cheeks. Then he says in a normal tone of voice, “You know what? I can probably go trade for a wolf or, like, a dragon or something. I think I saw a griffin.” He grabs for the baseball player.

Derek pulls the doll out of his reach. “No, I want this. I like- A human’s good.”

Stiles doesn’t try to take it again, but he still looks a little embarrassed, staring at the ground.

Derek is really not good with words, but he thinks he needs them now. He wishes he had some of that witch’s potion. “To keep it grounded,” he blurts out.

Stiles looks up, a confused frown on his face.

Derek pushes himself to say more. “The human. It can keep the wolf grounded. Keep it from, keep it from going wild. From being a lone wolf. From being alone.”

And somewhere in there, Derek must have said something right because Stiles is smiling now, even if he’s blushing more than he was before. “We should go check on the others,” Stiles says.

Derek nods.

Boyd and Erica ride all the rides and grade them, Scott and Isaac try all the different concession foods (Derek’s glad for their werewolf constitutions because there is deep fried everything here, from sweets like Oreos and Snickers to things like pickles and pizza), and Jackson wins Lydia five different huge stuffed animals, only one of which she’s actually carries. Stiles eats some cotton candy and Derek has a corn dog and they go on the roller coaster, but mostly they make sure Jackson isn’t too conspicuous with his skills and Lydia doesn’t get too bored and Scott doesn’t try to really test his strength with the Ring the Bell thing and Isaac doesn’t get on anything that’s too enclosed. Plus, they end up giving Boyd and Erica most of their tickets.

On the way home, Stiles holds the baseball player doll in his lap. Erica thanks Stiles because she’d never really done the whole ride thing, afraid the movement or the lights or the excitement would cause a seizure. Stiles smiles and asks which ride she’d liked the best. The rest of the drive home is spent discussing the merits of each ride. Boyd is not a fan of slow moving rides. Erica likes anything that spins. Stiles likes the ones that scare him a little. Derek can take or leave most of them, but cannot stand the Starship/Gravitron thing – he doesn’t like being pushed against the wall (Derek’s not really surprised by the look Stiles shoots him when he mentions it). 

Derek drops Erica off and then Boyd. Then he drives over to Stiles’ house. Stiles already has his hand on the door handle when he pulls up to the curb and puts the car in park, but Derek stops him with a hand on his arm. Stiles looks down at his hand and then up at Derek’s face, back and forth a couple of times until Derek realizes what Stiles is doing.

“I’m taking my hand off,” Derek says dryly, playing along.

“Turnabout is fair play.”

“Hmm.”

“So…”

“The poster said the fair is going on for another week.”

“Yeah.”

“You didn’t get to ride that many rides.”

“Had to watch out for everyone.”

“Right. So, what if everyone wasn’t there?”

“What do you- Oh. You mean you and me? Just the two of us?”

“Yes,” Derek answers, relieved he doesn’t have to spell it out.

“Like a date?”

Or maybe he does. “Yes.”

Stiles snorts out a laugh.

“So, no, then,” Derek says flatly.

“No, I mean, yes. It’s just, I thought ‘Huh. It’d be nice to go without the kids.’ Without the kids, Derek! I just thought of the rest of the pack as the kids! And I’m pretty sure that my parents did the same thing – you know, took me to the fair and then got someone to watch me and went another night, just the two of them. Oh my God, am I a parent? Wait, don’t answer that. I don’t think I’m ready for the answer. What I actually meant to say is - yes, Derek, I would like to go to the fair with you.”

Derek takes a second to absorb all of that and then says, “Good. Friday? About six?”

“Yeah, that’s good.”

“I’ll pick you up here.”

“Okay,” Stiles says and hands over the doll and opens the car door.

“Stiles.”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for the prize. For the prizes.”

Stiles smiles widely at him and then darts in and kisses the corner of Derek’s mouth. He’s out of the car with the door closed before Derek can react. Stiles waves at him through the window and Derek lifts his hand in response. Then Stiles turns and walks up to his house. He opens the door and slips inside, out of sight. Derek puts the prize on the passenger seat and then reaches up and touches the corner of his mouth. He pulls his hand away and puts the car in gear. As he drives to his house, he glances down at the doll and smiles. It will go well with his wolf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wolf: http://www.stuffedsafari.com/Woolsey-the-Stuffed-Wolf-by-Aurora-p/ar-31172.htm  
> dragon: http://www.allentowntoy.com/newsite/index.php?route=product/product&product_id=923&search=dragon  
> fireman, griffin: http://www.allentowntoy.com/newsite/index.php?route=product/product&product_id=243  
> baseball player: http://www.clarktoys.com/bupo14mlbplp.html

**Author's Note:**

> Just reposting these here.
> 
> If the titles look familiar, it's because they are all from dialogue from the show.
> 
> Let me know if you find any typos or if the format is messed up or if you think I need any tags.


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